


The Hedonist's Apprentice

by RinHo (RinAngel)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Aftercare, Bondage, Breathplay, Bruises, Butt Plugs, Car Sex, Cat Ears, Choking, Crossdressing, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Face-Fucking, Forced Orgasm, High Heels, It's just sex but it's not, Light Dom/sub, Light Polyamory, Lingerie, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Prostate Milking, Rimming, Roleplay, Romantic Kink, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Smut, Spanking, Temperature Play, Threesome, collaring, sensory play, switch dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:53:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 28,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24425317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RinAngel/pseuds/RinHo
Summary: “Out of all the members, I can't believe you and Yuta are dating. It’s kind of weird.”“What do you mean?” Doyoung tried not to sound too defensive. “I think we’re a cute couple.”“You are cute. It’s just that you’re so normal and Yuta’s such a freak.”(Little do the other seven members of NCT 127 know, Doyoung's freak just hasn't been unlocked yet. Luckily, Yuta knows everything there is to know about pleasure, and he's willing to share.)
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong/Nakamoto Yuta, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Nakamoto Yuta
Comments: 23
Kudos: 309





	1. Chapter 1

_ “Honestly, out of all the members, I can’t believe you and Yuta are dating.” Taeyong had told him this once — their leader never shied away from voicing an opinion. “It’s kind of weird.” _

_ “What do you mean?” Doyoung tried not to sound too defensive. “I think we’re a cute couple.” _

_ “You  _ are _ cute. It’s just that you’re so normal and Yuta’s such a freak.” _

Yuta wasn’t a freak, as far as Doyoung was concerned, he was just a hedonist. A  _ connoisseur  _ of pleasure, in fact. For someone like Doyoung, who had always led a disciplined life, it was a foreign concept. “It’s not hurting anybody,” that was Yuta’s famous adage. Whether it was getting drunk with Johnny and eating an entire bowl of raw cookie dough, or spending a questionable portion of his first NCT paycheck on expanding his anime collection, or kissing Doyoung on the balcony of their dorm and convincing him to be his boyfriend, Yuta was famous for living in the moment. There was something Doyoung found attractive about all those rough edges, and how Yuta never tried to apologize for any of them.

(Not to mention, Yuta made him  _ laugh _ like nobody else, and he had the prettiest smile Doyoung had ever seen, and he gave the most amazing backrubs, and his shoulder was always open for anybody to cry on, not to mention how  _ wildly _ gorgeous he was looking with his hair growing out— honestly, why were they all surprised that Doyoung said yes?)

“Wait. Okay. You can open your eyes now!” Yuta gave his shoulders a squeeze, and Doyoung timidly obeyed, breaking out into an instant smile. He was used to the way that the room looked when Taeil and Yuta had shared it, with two small beds on either side of the space, but since roommate shake-ups had led to Doyoung moving in and Taeil moving out, Yuta had pushed the beds together at one side and created the illusion of even more space. Doyoung’s things were still mostly boxed, but the bed was made up as a single queen, with Yuta’s stuffed animals lining the edge of the mattress and fairy lights wrapped around the bedposts. The very sight made him feel cozy, and he whirled around on his feet to give Yuta a kiss, arms wrapping around his shoulders.

“Get a room,” Mark called cheekily from the hallway, and Yuta snorted as he kicked the door closed.

“Good thing we have one now, right?” Yuta whispered, smiling against Doyoung’s lips. “Should we go test out the beds? I haven’t gotten laid since I moved into the dorms, so I don’t know if the frames are creaky…”

Instantly, a flush shot up Doyoung’s neck and tinged his cheeks, and he giggled softly, a nervous habit. “Okay, yeah…” He backed up to sit on the edge of the mattress, but Yuta fell naturally into the bed and gently pulled Doyoung down to join him. Yuta’s lips melted into his mouth, parting effortlessly, and Doyoung felt a little thrill as he dared to run his hands down Yuta’s toned chest. Living with seven band members and two managers, they had never found the privacy to hide together and really, properly make out— despite the excitement crackling in the air, Yuta took his time and didn’t rush a single kiss. His mouth trailed from Doyoung’s lips to his jaw and then down his neck, careful not to mark but still leaving sparks wherever it touched.

“So I should, uh, tell you…” Doyoung’s voice cracked halfway through his sentence, coinciding with Yuta’s thumb brushing against his nipple through his shirt, and he had to start again. “I should tell you now that I’ve never actually…” He trailed off, biting his lip.  


“What do you mean?” Yuta glanced up at him, eyes wide. "Like, never gone all the way? Or never done _anything?"_  


“Well, like you said, it’s not like we can sneak people into the dorms. I’ve been a trainee since I was seventeen, and by that time... I hadn't made it further than my first kiss,” Doyoung replied, feeling a little twinge of unease that perhaps he’d changed Yuta’s opinion of him.  _ Maybe he’s just realizing that I barely even know how to kiss. _ “I’ve never had the opportunity, that’s all…”

“That makes sense. I’m not judging!” Yuta quickly affirmed, though he’d pulled back from his kisses, now simply hovering over him. “I guess I’m just surprised since you’re so handsome. I figured you were probably used to girls falling all over you.”

“Yeah,  _ no. _ ”

“But,” Yuta went on, pretty lips turned up in a smirk. “This means that there’s so much for you to experience! And you have  _ me _ to help you experience it!” Yuta’s hands ran coyly under Doyoung’s shirt, fingertips skimming his abs and making him shiver. “I’ll leave it up to you, though. If you’re saving it for something more special than a random Tuesday in the middle of the afternoon…”

“I think this random Tuesday is pretty special,” Doyoung defended, surprising himself with his bravery as he pulled Yuta back down to kiss him. “I wanna do it. I just can’t promise you that I’ll be any  _ good _ at it…”

“Well, don’t even worry about being good at it,” Yuta whispered huskily, lips falling to Doyoung’s ear and giving him chills all over. “How ‘bout I let you just lay back and enjoy yourself?”

And so that was how Doyoung had his first sexual experience— while he was half-dressed and sprawled across their new “double bed”, Yuta made himself at home between his boyfriend’s spread legs and gave him a blowjob so perfect that it temporarily took away his ability to string syllables into words. Afterwards, they cuddled in the fading afternoon light, singing along to all the love songs on the radio and kissing each other wherever they could reach. “Everything about you is like a work of art,” Yuta had whispered, while Doyoung was still flushed and sweaty from sex, and he hadn’t known just what his boyfriend meant by that but he laughed at the absurdity anyway.

And when Jungwoo popped in their bedroom door later with a shit-eating grin to remind them that the walls were thin, Yuta replied without a care: “Just think of it as a romantic soundscape for you and Jaehyun. There might be an encore performance later tonight, if you’re lucky.”

//

Doyoung didn’t ever intend to become one of those couples that were attached at the hip, constantly sucking face, but then he and Yuta moved in together and that was  _ exactly  _ what happened.  In their defense, it was impossible to act like a couple at music show tapings or on VLive recordings or anywhere that they could be seen, which was just about everywhere. In front of the members, they tried to keep things at least semi-contained, and if you factored in unskippable things like eating, sleeping, and showering, that didn’t leave very many hours in the week for face-sucking to occur. They had to take advantage of the few that they had, which meant fucking like bunnies on their days off, and not nearly enough the rest of the time.

“Hey— can I put my stuff down before you go jumping me?!”

“Nope.” Doyoung smirked wickedly, tugging the shopping bags out of Yuta’s hands and tossing them down by the closet door before pulling his boyfriend in for a kiss. "That took  _ way _ too long. Why do Mark and Donghyuck have to look in  _ every _ store,  _ every _ time we go to the mall?”

“Because they aren’t anxious to go home and get dicked down?” Yuta suggested helpfully, hands going directly for Doyoung’s fly. Clearly, they were on the exact same wavelength. “You’re such a little slut for me.” The word hit like a jolt of electricity, making Doyoung suddenly feel even hotter under his clothes— it was a word he had always thought would offend him, but the way Yuta purred it in his ear, it hit all the right chords. He kissed him desperately as their bodies fell to the bed; Yuta, predictably impatient, didn’t even bother removing Doyoung’s shirt, and had two fingers lubed inside him in record time.

“You look so  _ fucking  _ pretty, coming undone like this for me…” Yuta’s voice was a low growl in his ear, just the right tone to make him shiver. “You want more, baby? Another finger?”

What, he was supposed to  _ form words _ with Yuta knuckle-deep inside of him? It was hard enough to make a coherent thought come together. A breathy moan escaped his lips, and he lifted his hips up, forcing Yuta’s fingers deeper.

“You can’t answer me?” Yuta asked in amusement, and suddenly his fingers slowed, making Doyoung whine. “You can’t take the easy way out, Doyoung-ie… tell me what you want.”

Doyoung bit his lip, resisting the instinct to ride Yuta’s fingers to an orgasm that was precariously close. He  _ wanted _ to be good for him, he really  _ did _ , but he had spent so much time conditioning himself to contain his noises so that they wouldn’t slip through the walls. If he opened his mouth, he wasn’t quite sure what he might accidentally say (or scream out in ecstasy). His fingers tightened in the sheets, and he closed his eyes, answering half-reluctantly: “I want… a-another…”

“You can do better than  _ that _ , surely,” Yuta teased, making Doyoung flush even more. “A full sentence. And it probably wouldn’t hurt your chances to say  _ please _ , hm?”

Doyoung pouted. Yuta grinned. Under normal circumstances, Doyoung felt like he could have outlasted Yuta’s patience on just about any matter, but this was a different matter. He  _ needed _ it— as Yuta’s fingers began to retreat, leaving him empty, he swallowed his pride with surprising ease. “Hyung,  _ please _ , I— I want you to fill me up.”

“Mm? With what, Doyoung-ie?” Yuta asked cheekily, sneaking a quick kiss from his parted lips.

“With your fucking cock! What else?” Doyoung  _ might _ have said that a bit louder than he’d intended to, in his exasperation. He couldn’t hear Jaehyun or Jungwoo on the other side of the wall, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there.

“I knew you weren’t as quiet as you let on!” Yuta’s smile took on a triumphant edge when Doyoung yielded. He pulled his fingers back - Doyoung let out an involuntary whimper - and reached for the lube once more (after all, you could never have too much). He got himself prepared, lifted Doyoung’s hips effortlessly, and kissed him long and slow and deep as the first inches of his cock slid into him.

And then stopped.

“You’re so mean!” Doyoung whined, half-laughing at this point, digging his nails into Yuta’s shoulders for a fleeting sense of revenge that his boyfriend didn’t appear to mind in the slightest. “What do you want me to say? I want to feel every  _ centimeter _ of you inside me, as deep as you can— I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk straight, is that  _ too much to ask? _ ”

“Nope, that’s absolutely  _ perfect _ .” Yuta couldn’t keep the laughter out of his voice, and Doyoung nearly complained, until Yuta’s hips pushed forward and filled him up. “I can’t help it! I like hearing that sweet little mouth of yours talk dirty…”

Of course, by the time he’d said this, he’d missed his opportunity, because every thrust of his hips left Doyoung further from being able to form a coherent word— still, Yuta dutifully gave him everything that he’d wanted and more. Yuta was a little shit, but his dedication to Doyoung’s pleasure was never lacking. Afterwards, as Doyoung lay panting and breathless on Yuta’s chest and let his boyfriend play with his hair, the thought occurred to him for the first time that this might be love.

//

Yuta was an excellent lay, and he was phenomenal at reading Doyoung’s body and giving him exactly what he needed. It was  _ sort _ of like a superpower. Everything Yuta did, Doyoung fell in love with— the way he tugged Doyoung’s head back by his hair to kiss his neck, the soft bites and hickeys that left pink bruises on his stomach and hips and thighs.

The most intriguing thing, though, was that Yuta knew things about sex that Doyoung hadn’t  _ imagined _ . Yuta’s experience left him unafraid of doing just about anything.

“ _ Hnh _ … hyung, I can’t believe you’re doing that…”

“What do you mean?” Yuta spoke up from between his legs, his breath giving him the strangest sensation as it traveled over his wet skin.

“Just… ah… l-licking me there…”

“Why not? You just got out of the shower, didn’t you?” It was a silly question, when his damp towel was still bunched up beneath his raised hips, but it made his point well enough. He didn’t give Doyoung a chance to answer, either, his tongue venturing once more between his spread cheeks and and making his head swim with pleasure. “The more important question is, does it feel good?”

“I mean… yes…” A wave of heat washed over him as he admitted it, which Yuta was fortunately too distracted to notice.

“Well, there you go. You’re welcome,” Yuta teased huskily, reaching around him to jerk his cock and setting back to work with his superbly talented tongue until Doyoung was blowing his load in the towel beneath him.

No one else that Doyoung knew was quite like Yuta. He was intelligent, hardworking, generous, and yet so invested in indulgence— his own and Doyoung’s. “Acceptably selfish”, Yuta had called it once. “Take pleasure where you can find it. I work too hard to not enjoy my time off, exactly how I want to!” The explanation made him laugh, but when Doyoung thought about it, he was surprised to find that he agreed. Maybe Yuta was slowly turning him into a hedonist, too.

//

Without a doubt, Nakamoto Yuta was the only person that Doyoung would ever trust to tie him up. His touch was firm but careful as he worked— looping nylon rope around his wrists, fastening them to the headboard, and then spreading his legs and cuffing his ankles to the bedposts. He was thorough - he tightened everything like he meant it - but he still slipped his fingers lovingly beneath the ropes at each point, making sure that it was all comfortable. “Is this okay?”

“I’m not  _ that _ delicate! You’re not going to hurt me!”

“Well, I can’t be too careful! You’re very precious to me.” Yuta pressed a kiss to his lips, perhaps to distract him as he slipped the blindfold quickly over his eyes and tightened the knot. Doyoung  _ hadn’t  _ expected that. He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt so vulnerable, and it might have been a little overwhelming if not for Yuta’s lips on his neck, keeping him grounded.

“‘Yellow’ to pause everything. ‘Red’ to stop completely, no questions asked. Okay?”

“Yes,” Doyoung answered softly— unable to even make a witty comment or joke, so quickly had his brain turned to absolute mush. It seemed to happen faster and faster every time they had sex; this time, he hadn’t even needed to touch him.

Suddenly, those same lips were on his nipple, out of nowhere, and there were fingertips ghosting across his hips and giving him goosebumps. Every nerve in his body was supercharged, ready to respond to the lightest sensation, and he couldn’t even brace himself. Every touch made him jump, and when Yuta finally gave him one single lubed finger, he blushed at the whine that escaped from his throat.

“Everything good?”

“Fuck,  _ so _ good.”

Yuta’s tongue suddenly flicked against the head of Doyoung’s cock, and he cried out in shock, ropes tightening as his body arched for more. A second finger slipped into him easily, sending his teeth sinking into his lower lip, but he was desperate for the warmth of Yuta’s mouth that he’d so nearly had.

“You’re so greedy.”

“Hyung,  _ please _ .” Doyoung’s voice trembled, making him blush. “It’s been a long time. I want your lips around me… I’ll do anything for it…”

“Is that so?” Yuta giggled, simultaneously making Doyoung’s heart melt and his cock twitch, but before he could beg any further, Yuta’s tongue ran quickly over his length, from base to tip— and then he was suddenly swallowed in a wet,  _ vibrating _ warmth that sent stars dancing across his vision. Doyoung had already conceded, Yuta's tongue was pure magic on its own, but the mechanical vibration that went along with it somehow was too much to bear for very long. While Yuta worked him over with that magical tongue, bobbing his head up and down his straining length, Doyoung arched his back desperately for more, his nails digging into his own palms. His climax came quick and hit _hard_ _,_ paired with a full-body shiver that left his legs weak and trembling as Yuta sucked him dry and swallowed every drop.  


“When the fuck did you even get a vibrating tongue ring?!”

“I picked it up this weekend! Was I correct in assuming that you would like it?” Yuta unknotted the last of Doyoung’s restraints, sticking his tongue out, which Doyoung couldn’t resist engulfing with his lips as soon as he could pull Yuta down to him.

“Are you some kind of sex god? Or am I really just so hopelessly inexperienced and vanilla that everything you do to me blows my mind?”

“Probably a combo of the two, if we’re being perfectly honest,” Yuta replied simply. “Although  _ vanilla _ is not exactly the word that I would use to describe you. So far, you’re every bit the kinky little slut that I am.”

There was that word again. It was like some new association was rewired into his brain, making his heart speed up when Yuta used this little term of endearment. Suddenly, his body felt hot and needy all over again, and he pushed his boyfriend’s shoulders into the mattress as he got on top of him.

“Hey, what did I tell you about calling me that?”

“Oh, right. That it turns you on like nothing else. I forgot.” Yuta grinned in a way that let Doyoung know that he hadn’t, pressing his stiff cock against Doyoung’s hips. That was right, he still hadn’t even gotten  _ himself _ off, he’d been so fixated on Doyoung’s pleasure. “That’s okay, I accept full responsibility. Do whatever you have to do.”

//

“Oh my god, I’ve created a monster.”

_ “What? _ They’re fur-lined for comfort! And they came with these cute little padlocks!”

“I think they’re great! I just didn’t expect you to spend so much money on sex toys! Doyoung, where in the world are we going to keep all this stuff when our closet is already packed with clothes?”

“We could move some of our stuff and maybe put it in the hall closet? Um, I mean the clothes, though, not the sex toys.”

“Wait, what are  _ those?” _

“They’re, a-ah— nipple clamps? I wasn’t sure, it was just kinda— I mean, I was ordering anyway, and I’d almost hit the free shipping minimum, so I thought—”

“Stop making excuses for your kinks, or so help me, I’ll test out that new ball gag on you.”

(Doyoung liked that even though Yuta was the guru on human sexuality, he could still surprise him from time to time.)

//

“I miss you already.” It was an objectively stupid thing to say, when you considered that Doyoung had spent every day of the last  _ four years _ with Yuta in the dorms and dance practice - a week off of work should have been a vacation for both of them, but as soon as Yuta messaged him that he’d landed safely in Tokyo, Doyoung was planning when he might be able to call him.  _ I guess this is what they mean by fools in love. _

_ “I miss you too, doll. But you haven’t seen your parents in awhile, so it was important to stay behind this time. Trust me, we’re going to have  _ so _ many other chances to meet each other’s families.” _ Yuta’s voice sounded so small over the phone, so far away from Doyoung’s childhood bedroom in Guri, where an entirely different Doyoung had been so entirely  _ unaffected _ by sleeping alone.

“I know. Trust me, it’s stupid, I  _ know _ . I just missed your voice, hyung.” Doyoung sighed, rolling himself onto his back and checking the time on his phone screen. “It’s getting kind of late. I don’t want to keep you up too long.”

Yuta laughed quietly.  _ “We’re getting more sleep apart then we would have gotten together, right? Look on the bright side.” _

“I don’t know about that. I don’t sleep so well without you.” Doyoung sighed softly. “This might be one of those nights…”

_ “Hm…” _ Yuta hummed sympathetically, and something about the little noise just—  _ hit _ like a hug, somehow.  _ “Maybe I can occupy your mind until you get sleepy? What would we be doing together if we were in the dorms right now?” _

“Um, you  _ know _ what we’d be doing.”

_ “Let me start,” _ Yuta decided, voice dropping to a whisper. Doyoung had never been to Yuta’s home in Japan, but he could still picture his boyfriend, laying in his own bed and looking out his own window, maybe at the same starscape. He smiled, but tried to focus into Yuta’s voice anyway:  _ “It would be just the two of us, with the whole apartment to ourselves, so we could make a nice romantic evening of it. I’d have time to get you all wined and dined, and then we’d get comfy on the couch, and I’d give you a  _ really _ good massage…” _

God, what he would have done to feel Yuta’s thumbs pressing into the backs of his stiff shoulders. Even thinking about the sensation nearly made him moan. “Yeah? Just a massage?” he teased. “Do you have the willpower for that?”

_ “I don’t know, do I?” _

Doyoung suddenly felt hot all over, being put on the spot, and he barely thought about it as he undid one of the buttons on his pajama top. “Of course not. You wouldn’t be able to keep from pulling on my clothes, you never can.” Thinking about it, his throat went dry: “Imagine taking my clothes off there, in the living room.  _ God _ , you’re really making me miss your hands…”

_ “Probably not as much my hands miss you,” _ Yuta replied cheekily, his voice deliciously low and breathy over the phone.  _ “I’d kiss you and take my time touching you everywhere. Your chest. Your stomach. Your hip bones… I’d wait and leave your cock alone until you couldn’t take waiting anymore, and when you couldn’t keep from begging, I’d start teasing you with my tongue…” _ Doyoung couldn’t help but sigh into the phone at the very thought, and Yuta chuckled.  _ “Are you touching yourself, babe?” _

Doyoung’s eyes fluttered closed, preserving all of his attention for Yuta’s voice paired with his fingers pulling long, slow strokes on his cock. “Yeah,” he breathed, somehow getting that feeling of lightheaded excitement that he only ever got with Yuta. “Shit, hyung, I, ah—” Yup, right on cue, the inability to form a coherent sentence. “Can you give me a second? I packed some lube in my suitcase…” He could barely say the words aloud, for fear that his parents would hear, and his cheeks burned. Lube certainly had never been an item he’d packed on trips home before. “I feel like I’m going to go crazy without something inside me…”

_ “Like I said, I’ve created a monster.” _

Doyoung would have thought he was too awkward for phone sex at one point— hell, he was awkward enough as it was, like when he came with a pornstar-worthy moan and spent the next fifteen minutes hiding under his comforter and biting back laughter, paranoid that someone would come check on him. But there were some  _ amazing _ moments, too, with Yuta’s gorgeous voice growling all sorts of promises into his ear, one hand around his cock and three fingers swallowed up inside himself. He wasn’t expecting how hard he came (hence the moan and the mortification), and his limbs felt like jelly after, longing to wrap around Yuta and entrap him while he snoozed. They couldn’t cuddle, but it was too natural to fall into the regular post-sex conversation, with both of their moods and their minds lighter; it was a mix of serious stuff and silly stuff and lighthearted giggles about nothing at all, and in the moments between words, it was just being able to hear Yuta’s breaths beside him.

And then Yuta’s voice broke one of those silences out of nowhere, barely a whisper:  _ “I love you so much, Kim Dongyoung.” _ The word  _ love _ seemed to have slightly less weight when you had fans that slung it at you all day every day, but this was the first time that he’d heard those words from a  _ boyfriend, _ and they made him almost delirious with pleasure.

“I love you, too, Yuta hyung. I love you more than anything.” He sighed. “This is so bittersweet! I’m happy, but I want to fall asleep with you, too. Hanging up the phone is going to be impossible.”

_ “I mean, I have unlimited international calling. We don’t need to hang up.” _

Yuta was gone for five days, which meant that for five days, Doyoung fell asleep with his phone wedged between the pillow and his ear, listening to Yuta’s breaths until he dozed off or the call dropped. Truthfully, it was one of the sweetest things that a boyfriend had ever done for him, but he knew that if he ever mentioned it to Taeyong or the others, they’d tell him he was crazy.  _ Too in love, _ as their bandmates would affectionately tease them from time to time, except Doyoung didn’t think he could ever have  _ too much _ of Yuta’s love.

//

_ “I swear, the first thing I’m going to do when you get back here is kiss you, and I don’t care who sees.” _ It was a promise that Doyoung made to Yuta the day before his boyfriend was due home, and he kept his word— ready from the very moment that he heard Yuta fumbling with the keypad lock on the door, grabbing him and kissing him right in the entryway before he could even take his shoes off. (Everybody clapped— even their manager, who was the one most insistent that they were doing a stupid thing by dating within their boy band.)

These were the hard parts of having an amazing boyfriend: having to stand back and keep your hands to yourself while your boyfriend catches up with his friends and distributes gifts brought back from abroad, when all you  _ really _ want to do is drag him to the bedroom and devour each other. This was when Doyoung’s well-practiced discipline came in handy— but when Yuta announced that he was going to go upstairs and unpack, Doyoung was right at his heels, even carrying his luggage for him.

“That excited to see me?” Yuta grinned knowingly, turning at the top of the stairs to steal another quick kiss. “Or are you looking for your gift? I  _ did _ bring you back something.”

“You didn’t have to bring me back anything! Just you~” Doyoung grinned, leading the way into the bedroom and tossing the suitcases at the end of the bed, on the floor, for later. “Can I unwrap you now?”

“Give me one second.” Yuta went for his suitcase first, and Doyoung pouted. Well, then, might as well be useful and unwrap himself. He was down to his boxers and already just about painfully hard when Yuta turned back to face him, grinning. “Close your eyes, babe?”

Doyoung trembled in anticipation but closed his eyes without hesitation, in absolute trust. Yuta’s fingers threaded through his hair gently, petting him, before he felt the secure tug of something clipping into his hair. “Yuta hyung…” Doyoung’s eyes opened the moment he touched the top of his head, feeling out the furry attachments that he recognized almost at once. He’d worn his fair share of fake animal ears at fanmeets, but while he could muscle through some aegyo for the sake of his career, alone with Yuta it only made him burst into nervous laughter. “Really?!”

“This is a judgment free zone!” Yuta countered with a little pout, adjusting the ears lovingly. “I saw this stuff and thought you’d look cute in it. There’s more, if you can stop laughing at me for a second!”

“Okay, okay. Sorry.”

Next, with a hesitance that seemed strange on him, Yuta presented him with a collar, simple black leather lined with soft fur. The round silver tag on the front was customized, Doyoung noticed at once:  _ KDY _ on one side,  _ NYT _ on the other. All the implications of this simple lettering washed over Doyoung as he held it up to inspect it. Yuta had already asked Doyoung to be his boyfriend, months ago, and this felt like some strange second step that he didn’t know a name for. He wrapped the collar carefully around his own throat, and Yuta helped to adjust it comfortably. “Do you… like it?” he asked softly. “I thought it might be nice to get you something… significant. I know you won’t be able to wear it very often, but that’s okay…”

“I don’t care about that! It’s still beautiful, and I still love it.” Doyoung liked the feeling of the collar, pleasantly tight on his neck, and he smiled as he caught his reflection in their wall mirror. The ears were well-made, standing out in baby pink against his black hair. The collar was discreet enough to look like a choker, perhaps, with the tag removed and tucked away somewhere safe. He felt properly like a submissive, suddenly, about to present himself before his Master, and the thought gave him a shiver of pleasure.

“You look so cute,” Yuta’s voice broke in before he could take his eyes off of himself, and Doyoung turned back to see his boyfriend holding the third part of his ensemble in his hands: a long, fluffy tail in just the same color as the ears, pink tipped with white, and on the other end, a modestly sizd butt plug. Doyoung suddenly felt hot all over, and he couldn’t keep from giggling, half-nervous and half-intoxicated by the novelty of it.

“How can I already look cute? I’m missing part of the outfit,” he insisted, feeling both shy and scandalous in equal turns as bent over the desk, propped himself up on his elbows, and presented himself. “I got new lube. I hid it in your underwear drawer.”

“Typical. This is why everyone thinks you’re a perfect angel,” Yuta purred, grabbing the bottle and wasting no time in drizzling a generous amount at the top of the cleft between Doyoung’s spread cheeks. Two fingers gathered the stray drips and pushed gently into him, just for a moment, and Doyoung’s breath caught in his throat. “Isn’t it, kitten?”

“Kitten? That’s cute,” Doyoung looked back over his shoulder with a blush, watching Yuta put some extra lube on the plug. “I think I like ‘slut’ better, though.”

“Oh?”

“ _ Your _ slut. I’ll do anything, but only for you.” Doyoung closed his eyes, arching his body with a soft groan as the plug filled him— bigger than it had looked, stretching him just  _ perfectly.  _ A sudden pulse of vibration caught him off-guard, and he bit his lip hard to quell his moan. “Hyung…!”

“You have no idea how perfect you look right now,” Yuta breathed, leaning over Doyoung to kiss along his shoulder. Then, he straightened, and his voice took on the edge of authority that made Doyoung feel weak: “Come here, slut. Why don’t you let me show you?” Yuta positioned himself on the edge of the bed, tugging Doyoung into his lap by his hips. Doyoung’s eyes had fallen closed, his focus on the lips assaulting his neck and the hands pulling his thighs apart, creeping closer to his throbbing, needy cock with every second— but then Yuta’s soft voice tickled his ear.   
  
“Open your eyes, kitten. I want you to see how beautiful you are when you come apart for me.”

Doyoung opened his eyes to the mirror, and his breath caught in his throat at the sight of himself: hair mussed, cheeks flushed, eyes bright with desire. His legs were spread without an ounce of shame for his dripping cock, or his hole greedily clenched around the toy inside of it. He watched, mesmerized, as Yuta’s fingers trailed across his skin: one hand to his right nipple, gently pinching and tweaking, the other wrapped around his desperate length.

“Looks like you’ve been thinking about this all vacation long, hmm? You want me to make you feel good after all that time apart?”

Nodding did not count as a proper answer, not with Yuta— Doyoung knew better. His lips formed the words hurriedly, nearly tripping over the sounds: “Yes, hyung, please touch me. I need it so badly...”

Yuta’s fingers knew just how to play his body, like a well-practiced instrument. He knew how to tease him with his fingers, with his tongue on Doyoung’s neck, with the vibrations of the toy getting stronger precisely when he needed them to. Doyoung was sunk into his pleasure but especially stricken by the sight of himself in the mirror, the way his skin flushed, his eyes narrowed, the arch of his back, the line of his neck. Watching himself cum, painting his own stomach with thick ropes of semen, Doyoung thought he finally understood what Yuta had meant when he called him a “work of art”.

After the act, both lying across the still-made bed in sludge-brained, post-orgasm bliss, Yuta’s phone went off with a sharp buzz. Yuta sought it out instinctively, glanced at the message, and snorted.

“It’s from Taeyong. He says, ‘We’re having champagne down here and toasting to the group. Take your dick out of my best friend long enough to join us.’ Aww, I think Taeyongie is jealous!”

Doyoung had to smile. “I’m his best friend? Aw. That’s sweet.” His own phone went off from somewhere on the floor, probably lost under the bed with his jeans, and he sighed. “He’s texting me now, too. Come on, let’s head down before they send a search party looking for us.”

Doyoung and Yuta were the last to arrive to the band’s impromptu kitchen meeting, but Taeyong held the toast until they each had their own glass of champagne, so they could clink nine-plus-the-manager’s glasses together in high hopes for the new album. Yuta drank a glass too many and curled up against Doyoung’s body on the couch, unapologetically drunk like always, and Doyoung kissed his rosy cheeks and shielded him from the needling of his bandmates, a job he was happy to take on.

Towards the end of the night, when half of the members had disappeared into their rooms and the other half were starting to drop around the living room, it was Mark who reached out to gingerly touch the tag on Doyoung’s collar. “What is this? You’re not usually the type for jewelry, hyung.”

“Yeah, well… Yuta hyung got me this. It’s special.” Perhaps the blush on Doyoung’s cheeks was telling, or perhaps Mark put two and two together when he read Yuta’s initials on the tag, but he shook his head a little as he laughed.

“The two of you are  _ weird. _ No offense.”

Doyoung chuckled, pausing to drain the rest of his champagne glass. He was starting to feel pretty bubbly, too. “You’re just young. You’ll understand some day,” he answered Mark mysteriously, using what had become one of his favorite lines since falling in love.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was meant to be nothing but sex scenes, that was literally the p o i n t, but whoops some whole-group character development slipped in here too, now it's just a general-purpose Sexually Liberated NCT 127 AU.
> 
> As an aside, it occurred to me about 2/3 of the way through this chapter that 127 is split up into two dorms IRL, so using their IRL roommate configurations as a base for this was pointless anyway. (Then I decided I truly don't care enough to change anything, and none of you probably care that much either, but I'm still waving my stupidity here in the chapter notes like a white flag of surrender.)

The blindfold was a nerve wracking thing for Doyoung, who wasn’t much for suspense. Not knowing what was coming always made him anxious. Leaps of faith were out of his character. But under Yuta’s fingers, things changed. There was no anxiety, just excitement pulsating under his skin. He could take leaps of faith, every once in awhile, because Yuta would be sure to catch him.

“Are you sure this is okay?”

“Yes,” Doyoung’s voice rasped, edged with anticipation as his eyes fluttered closed behind his blindfold. If anything, though, the familiar feeling of fur-lined cuffs at his wrists did something to alleviate his anxiety. He only wore them with Yuta, and Yuta was pure safety to him.

His boyfriend’s hand on his chest startled him, though Yuta’s touch was feather-light. “Your heart is racing,” he observed, and Doyoung couldn’t tell if he was more amused or concerned.

“I  _ know,” _ Doyoung huffed, feeling his body already heating up as Yuta’s hands traveled down his torso to undress his unrestrained lower half. “This always happens with you lately. I get excited whenever you touch me.”

“Ahh.  _ Cute,” _ Yuta whispered, moving back up Doyoung’s body to caress his jawline and give him a sweet kiss that made Doyoung turn to jelly beneath him. “Can you be good for two minutes? I’ll be right back.”

“Right back? What are you—” Yuta’s weight moved off the bed while Doyoung was in mid-sentence, and he sighed as he heard the door close.  _ Dick.  _ He squirmed against the restraints, and for the first time, he  _ truly _ realized that he was completely helpless and completely exposed, without even a blanket draped over him. It might have only been two minutes, but it  _ felt _ like an eternity, ripe with the anticipation of what in the world Yuta had suddenly come up with.

“Sorry! Mark started talking to me about something while I was in the kitchen,” Yuta volunteered when he returned, tone light-hearted. “Don’t pout at me!”

“I don’t like having to wait,” Doyoung whined— a pleading tone that he would have been mortified to use anywhere  _ but _ tied to their bed and desperately horny.

“I was making tea.”

“Making tea?  _ Hyung—” _ Doyoung didn’t even know what he’d been about to say, but it really didn’t matter once he had Yuta’s superheated tongue brushing against his nipple. “A-Ah—”

“I  _ will _ gag you if you can’t behave,” Yuta teased huskily, voice dark and commanding at the same time that it held back an obvious laugh. “Good sluts know enough to watch their tongues when they’re expecting their hyung to be nice to them, right?”

“Y-Yes, hyung…” Doyoung answered the automatic words, without even thinking about it, because Yuta’s mouth had continued down his chest to trace the lines of his abs, assaulting his skin with steaming kisses that he could feel long after his mouth had moved on.  _ Tea. Who would have even thought?  _ Well, Yuta was nothing if not resourceful.

“Worth waiting?”

“Nnh… always. You know that, hyung.” Doyoung quivered when Yuta’s lips got closer and closer to his waiting cock, his body supercharged with anticipation— then he felt Yuta shift away, no doubt for another sip of tea, and he shuddered at the thought of that heat wrapping around him and making him explode.

It was just as heavenly as he expected: Yuta’s tongue waking up every last nerve ending with a single trail from base to tip, his breath teasing the head of his cock for just a moment before his lips wrapped around him and made Doyoung see stars behind his blindfold. It was a single moment of pure bliss, just before he was suddenly hit by a white-hot sting in the dead center of his chest that made him twist his body instinctively away. “A-ah—  _ Yuta hyung— !!” _

His first instinct was that he was being burned, that it was something impossibly hot— but half a second later, he caught his breath as he felt water pooling on his skin. It wasn’t hot, it was cold: an ice cube. “You  _ fucking _ dick,” he breathed, his voice trembling in adrenaline-surged relief, but he was sent into a whole new frenzy of wiggling as the ice cube slid across his chest towards his right nipple. His entire body tensed in anticipation, and he was painfully aware of the melted water droplets rolling across his skin towards his stomach, maddeningly slow.

“You’re so fucking cute. It makes me want to take that blindfold off you so I can get the full reaction, but I don’t think this would have the same magic if you could anticipate it.” Yuta lifted the ice cube just before his nipple, only to bring it across his chest and tease the left one to its tense peak. His opposite hand had taken over for his mouth for the moment, rubbing his boyfriend’s cock at a lazy, teasing sort of pace, but it was still enough to drive him crazy. “Your cock keeps twitching! At least  _ someone _ likes it.”

Yuta was right. The anticipation had his body trembling and straining involuntarily against the cuffs, but it also had him rock hard and leaking. Excitement twisted with fear of the unknown, and Doyoung knew that he was only so far away from coming undone. He couldn’t even think of a quip back— just another hiss of surprise as the ice cube slid slowly lower. Cold trails were immediately lapped up in warmth, or blown over with cool breath to earn a second shiver, but with all of this loving attention paid to tormenting him, Yuta’s hand seemed hellbent on moving no faster on his cock no matter  _ how _ he whined and arched his hips. It was hard to say which sensation was maddening him more. No doubt about it, Yuta was trying to make him beg, and in matters like this, Yuta always got his way.

“Hyung, please,” Doyoung whimpered, feeling hot from head to toe. “I need you inside me, I can’t wait anymore. I’m so—  _ so  _ fucking close…”

Yuta laughed softly, giving Doyoung a kiss. “Feeling adventurous?” he asked quietly— somehow different than the usual bedroom tone, a little more intimate.

“Is this not  _ already  _ adventurous?”

“For us? I think this is about usual,” Yuta answered in good humor, but his hands were so perfectly gentle and delicate, caressing the softness of Doyoung’s thighs. It gave him goosebumps when Yuta touched him just to touch him, or kissed along the line of his hipbone just because he wanted to. “I want to try something a little bit different. Do you trust me?”

No thought. Only one answer. “Completely, hyung.”

“Good. Give me  _ two _ minutes.”

“Hyung, this is  _ bullshit _ .”

Yuta laughed again, shifting on the bed beside him and grabbing something from the bedside drawer— the very sound made him shudder in delight, something which didn’t go unnoticed. “You’re so cute,” Yuta purred, kissing Doyoung’s forehead. “Don’t worry, hyung’s going to take good care of you…”

“Fuck, just hurry…”

“The best things in life are worth waiting for.”

Doyoung quieted down then, trying to work out just what it was that Yuta was doing. He was silent, moving very little, out of Doyoung’s extremely limited reach. He wasn’t lying, he trusted Yuta with everything he had, but that didn’t make waiting and wondering any easier. He was just wondering if he could perhaps tilt his head enough to see out of the faint strip of light below his blindfold when he heard the telltale little  _ click  _ that Doyoung knew was the bottle of lubricant closing, and he bit his lip hard as he tried to imagine what Yuta might be using it on, if not  _ him. _ Some kind of new toy, perhaps? (Doyoung had just bought his first vibrator, which he’d already gotten his money’s worth out of as far as he was concerned, so the idea made his heart pound.)

Yuta shifted to straddle him and kissed him once more, a sinfully sweet little gesture that made Doyoung weak. “Ready, love?”

_ Love. _ Doyoung’s heart skipped a beat. “Please.”

Yuta’s fingers wrapped carefully around Doyoung’s throbbing erection, the anticipation making him shiver deliciously. A moment later, the head of his cock was pressing up against something hot and wet and impossibly tight, and his body was washed over in a wave of mind-numbing pleasure as he was slowly engulfed in warmth.  _ Holy shit, is he really—  _ Yuta let out a little sigh, and something like a whimper, and whispered, “Don’t move just yet…”

_ Holy shit.  _ Doyoung let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding, fighting his instinct to thrust up against that amazing sensation. “Hyung—  _ fuck. _ ” It took him a moment to put a proper sentence together in his head with Yuta’s ass clenched around him, and when he spoke, he fumbled through his words, blushing: “Can you please take the blindfold off me? I really want to  _ see _ you…”

Yuta obliged at once; the blindfold first, but then the cuffs as well, freeing Doyoung’s arms immediately so that he could sit up and grab onto Yuta’s hips for dear life. He looked lovely; more flushed than Doyoung had ever seen him before, eyes dreamy and seductive, as though he were drunk on him.

“It’s been a long time. I miss this sometimes,” Yuta explained with a sweet smile that somehow melted Doyoung’s heart, despite everything else about the situation. “Is this okay?”

“Hyung— you feel so good…” Doyoung usually only enlisted begging as a last resort, but this time, it came out of him effortlessly: “Yes,  _ please, _ don’t stop…”

It was funny, how they could do something for the first time and instantly get it right. Doyoung’s hips knew exactly how to move in time with Yuta’s to send each thrust as deep as possible; slow to start, savoring the feeling, but speeding up as they adjusted to all the new sensations. Yuta hadn’t quite given up his dominant tendencies - he controlled the pace, after all, and every so often he would slow just to hear Doyoung whimper - but he was also so much more  _ vulnerable _ with Doyoung inside him, more vocal, more sensitive. He pressed himself close for more friction, teeth sunk into his bottom lip in an effort to stay silent— a pointless endeavor when Doyoung himself could barely keep himself in check. It was too much, too  _ hot. _

Suddenly, Yuta’s pace picked up, lips falling open in an unhindered cry of pleasure and thighs trembling as he fought fatigue to ride Doyoung’s cock harder. Thoughtlessly, Doyoung’s hands found Yuta’s hips, flipping him easily onto the mattress so that he could relax and let Doyoung handle the hard work. With Doyoung’s renewed energy and pace, Yuta went slack beneath him, fingers curling desperately into the sheets. “Yes,  _ yes, Dongyoung—!!” _ He gasped, his muscles clenching tight around Doyoung’s cock, bringing them both over the edge together as he painted both of their stomachs with his heavy load of cum.

The atmosphere afterwards was pure serenity, which Doyoung was almost too scared to ruin by speaking. Yuta was the one finally brave enough to attempt words: “I think you might be the best I’ve ever had. I’m not just saying that to boost your confidence, either.”

“You  _ think? _ It didn’t sound like you were needing to  _ think _ about it much while you were screaming my name.”

“Well, I can’t let your head get too big,” Yuta retorted, wrapping his arms possessively around Doyoung while their legs twined together. “By the way, bottoming makes me super needy, so I’m going to cling to you for the rest of the night and demand all your love, cuddles, and attention. Enjoy it for now, but don’t forget who’s the dom in this relationship.” He playfully tugged at the tag on Doyoung’s collar, reminding him that he even had it on. (Sometimes Yuta had to remind him to take it off before schedules. Something about wearing it felt natural.)

_ “Ha. _ As if I had it in me to be anything but submissive,” Doyoung replied, holding Yuta tight and pressing a few kisses into his hair. It sounded ridiculous enough to be a joke (and they both laughed), but later, cuddled up in bed with Yuta snoring on his chest, he couldn’t help but think about how different things would have been if Yuta hadn’t  _ found _ him.

//

“Doyoung has a hickey!”

Doyoung kicked Donghyuck under the breakfast table and pulled up his hood to hide his neck from the half-dozen pairs of curious eyes now scrutinizing him. The _maknae_ lived every day in the dorms like he didn't care whether he lived or died.

“I do not!” Doyoung met the younger’s eyes with all the confidence that being older entitled him to— trying to ignore the  _ older _ older members standing around the coffee maker, watching in barely-hidden amusement. “It’s hives. I must be allergic to some type of makeup.”

“Hives don’t leave  _ teeth marks,”  _ Donghyuck shot back with a shit-eating grin. “You’re lucky we’re only in the recording booth today.”

“Who’s lucky?” From behind them, Yuta’s voice was still rough with sleep, but his face positively glowed with that particular morning-after radiance. He hugged Doyoung tight from behind and gave Donghyuck a playful glare. “Get out of here, you gremlin. Quit teasing my kitten.” Donghyuck only scoffed, scooting down a chair to give Yuta the space closest to his boyfriend.

“Yeah, I’m not going to fuck with you, seeing as how you’re a vampire,” Donghyuck decided, 

“Vampire?” Yuta repeated with a ghost of a smile, tugging on the side of Doyoung’s hood to peek at the hickey in question. “Pssh. That’s nothing, I could cover that myself.”

“Covering it with your mouth again doesn’t count!” Taeil interjected from across the room. Normally, terrorizing Doyoung and Yuta was a maknae-line game. Taeil wouldn’t join in unless he had something  _ really _ good.

Predictably, the entire kitchen burst into laughter; it might have been at their expense, but Doyoung had come far past letting it bother him, especially when he glanced over just in time to see Johnny casually wrap his arm around Taeil’s waist. Love was in the air— although, he thought, as he touched the leather collar wound twice around his wrist and hidden beneath his sleeve, nothing could hold a candle to the crazy, beautiful thing that he and Yuta had created. Nobody understood, but nobody needed to.

//

Doyoung blamed Donghyuck for putting bruises into his mind. That first hickey had been an accident, but Yuta was especially diligent afterwards, because the fact of that matter was that Doyoung  _ did _ bruise incredibly easily, and it wouldn’t take much for fans to notice and raise a stink.

The problem was that Doyoung actually  _ liked _ bruises. They felt good in the moment (Doyoung had a masochistic side, which he’d known  _ long _ before hooking up with Yuta) and they  _ looked _ good on his skin, red fading to purple and blue and yellow in turn. Maybe it was a weird thing to want, but Doyoung was becoming accustomed to the “weird”.

“I wish there was a way you could leave marks on me without blowing our cover,” Doyoung whispered breathlessly as the tip of Yuta’s tongue traced the line of his collarbones. It was an unusually sensitive spot, and even  _ thinking  _ about Yuta’s teeth digging into him made his cock throb with desire.

“I mean, there  _ is,” _ Yuta pointed out, half a smile appearing on his kiss-swollen lips. “I’d just have to go for the areas of your body that never see the light of day. Luckily - for some reason I’ll never understand - the directors never ask you to take your clothes off.”

“It’s because I’m scrawny!”

“I think you’re the hottest one in the whole group… but then again, I’m a little biased,” Yuta teased between kisses, his mouth making his way down the center of Doyoung’s pale chest. “Mm… I want to eat you up.”

_ “Please…” _ Doyoung’s plea came out as a downright piteous moan. “Mark me up, hyung…”

It only took a tug on Doyoung’s sweatpants to free his aching cock (on their days off, it was easier to not wear underwear, just for this  _ exact  _ reason), but Yuta’s attention didn’t immediately go where Doyoung wanted it the most. Instead, his mouth stuck to Doyoung’s hipbones, teasing with soft kisses and gentle hickeys. Unmistakable pink marks, they’d fade quickly, but for the moment, they were satisfying enough— 

When Yuta  _ truly _ bit him, it caught Doyoung off-guard, but the groan that left his lips was more pleasure than pain. Oh,  _ yes, _ it was every  _ bit _ as satisfying as he’d imagined, and just like everything else, it only spiked his appetite for more.  _ “Hyung...” _ His cock twitched, as though demanding Yuta’s love, and Doyoung felt a wash of  _ weirdly pleasant _ humiliation at his own desperation.  _ Fuck, this is hot. This is so hot. _

“Pain turns you on, too? Every time I think I know you front and back, something new catches me by surprise…” Doyoung’s breath was shaky as Yuta kissed the perfect imprints of his own teeth in his boyfriend’s skin— gentle one moment, but then stern as he ordered, “Take off your pants and get on your hands and knees, slut.” As soon as the words were spoken, Doyoung was scrambling to obey, feeling oddly exposed as he assumed the position— and  _ particularly _ as Yuta pressed down between his shoulders, forcing Doyoung to lower his head and chest to the mattress.

“I’m going to spank you. And you’re going to count for me, twenty strokes, my little pet…" His fingers ran just once over Doyoung's hair, as if to reassure him. "...and you're going to pay very careful attention, because if you misspeak, you'll earn more. Do you understand?"

God.  _ God.  _ The ease with which Yuta got into character was unreal. When his voice took that tone of command, Doyoung went absolutely weak, and he didn’t miss his boyfriend’s soft chuckle at his visible shiver. “Yes, hyung…”

_ Smack!  _ Doyoung gasped sharply, in surprise more than pain; it took a second for the sting to really settle in, cloying and temporary. “One,” he spoke softly, voice quivering with stifled excitement.  _ Smack!  _ Right in the same place, almost perfectly… okay, that smarted a little bit. “Two.”  _ Smack! _ This one made Doyoung instinctively wiggle, he couldn’t help it, and he whimpered. “Three…”  _ He’s stronger than I thought. _ The hardest part was not knowing where or when Yuta’s hand would come down. Sometimes the pain was negligible, but a couple times, it made him cry out, face buried in his pillow.

Either way, though, each burst of pain brought fresh endorphins, and the pleasure was only amplified by the sense of vulnerability that he felt, holding position and staying still while his lover’s hand slowly and methodically reddened his porcelain skin. Oh, there would be bruises. Doyoung would be shocked if there weren’t.

_ But I feel powerful, too. Like for you, I could do anything. _

_ Smack! _ “Eighteen.”  _ Smack! _ “Nineteen.” Doyoung’s voice no longer shook, though his thighs trembled a bit with the strain of keeping still, and his erection ached for attention all the while. It hurt, but Doyoung had moved past the pain, like he was only half-feeling it. He could take a dozen more, he was sure of it. He smirked into the pillow.

_ Smack!  _ “Nineteen.” There was a pause, Yuta’s consideration, before—  _ smack-smack-smack!  _ Three in a row, too quick to count, stinging enough to bring Doyoung to the edge of tears.

“Pay attention, pet. Try again.”

_ Smack!  _ “Nineteen,” Doyoung repeated, unable to resist the urge to peek back at Yuta. Naturally, when their eyes made contact, they both smiled.

“I should have  _ known.  _ All right, brat, if you’re going to get greedy…” Yuta’s fingers closed around a fistful of Doyoung’s hair, while two digits from his free hand popped unceremoniously into his mouth. Knowing what was coming, Doyoung sucked eagerly at them, getting them well-lubricated; a second after they left his mouth, one of them pushed its way into his tight, waiting entrance, and he couldn’t help but push back against the intrusion, biting his lip and mewling for more. After all, Yuta was right… Doyoung couldn’t help but be just the  _ tiniest _ bit greedy.

Emerging into the kitchen an hour later for dinner, Doyoung was exhausted to his very bones, sore but satisfied: he could feel his own slight limp, but he did his best to hide it, planning to tell anyone who asked that he pulled a muscle in the practice room the day before. That was, until he and Yuta sat down to eat across from Johnny and Jaehyun, who met their eyes with barely concealed grins.

“Seriously, we have to know,” Jaehyun asked cheekily, “Do you guys, like… just lock yourselves in there and beat each other up, or what? Because whatever is going on sounds  _ intense.” _

Yuta and Doyoung exchanged a single glance, burst into laughter, and both elected to keep that answer to themselves.

//

NCT modeled all kinds of ridiculous outfits all the time, so Doyoung had gotten used to what felt like  _ costumes. _ Actually, it was pretty fun— he’d gone into entertainment strictly to sing, but the theatrics of it all had grown on him. Besides, he thought, straightening his tie in the mirror, school uniform shoots were tame. Maybe a little cheesy and silly for someone his age, but not bad. Besides, he looked— 

“Not that you don’t look adorable, but I can’t stop picturing you in  _ those, _ instead.”

Yuta’s voice was a murmur beside him, barely audible in the chaos of staff and models around them, but Doyoung looked up immediately. His boyfriend was always handsome, but it was a long time since he had seen the sweetness of Yuta in a school uniform. “Aww, babe—” But then he caught wind of where Yuta was looking: at the conglomeration of Gfriend members who had come to shoot alongside them, all wearing identical blazers, plaid skirts, and knee socks.

Doyoung scoffed. “Pervert. Quit looking at girls.”

“I’m not. I’m looking at their skirts, and thinking about your ass in them.”

Doyoung looked again. Oddly, it wasn’t hard to picture how it would feel to dress up like that.  _ Exposed,  _ thighs in the open air, oh, and he’d have to wear  _ panties _ to pull off a skirt so short… Okay, time to stop thinking about it, he scolded himself, forcing his eyes back to the mirror and confronting his bright red face.

“Good to know,” he replied casually. He’d just tuck that in the back of his mind for later.

//

Skirts definitely felt exposing. So did fishnet stockings. So did heels— which Doyoung really didn’t  _ need, _ considering he was already taller than Yuta, but  _ damn, _ did his legs look good in them. Besides, they really brought the entire ensemble together, looking smart with his black and white French maid dress.  _ Might as well take advantage of everyone else having schedules today. _

When his boyfriend took him in like this for the first time, eyeing him from top to bottom with that deadly smirk of his, Doyoung felt a thrill of excitement, and he straightened up his posture for a proper curtsy. “Good morning, Master…” Yuta was perfectly silent as he approached him,  _ oozing _ confidence in the outfit that Doyoung had selected for him. He looked expensive as  _ fuck,  _ even in a casual blazer and skinny jeans, tie fastened only loosely around his neck. (Doyoung didn’t see Yuta dressed up  _ nearly _ enough, and Yuta in a necktie never failed to make him swoon.) “I’m finished with the bedroom. Is it up to your standards?”

“Stand still,” Yuta ordered softly, stepping close enough to adjust the bow tied at Doyoung’s dress collar. “Why can’t my maid even keep a tidy uniform? Unprofessional.”

Doyoung knew that Yuta was only playing a role, and yet even so, it was hard not to feel a bit crestfallen at the criticism. He lowered his eyes submissively, biting his lip. “I apologize, Master,” he answered formally, staying still as Yuta circled around him. He reached without hesitation up Doyoung's skirt to adjust his petticoat, not missing an opportunity to glimpse the lacy black thong that he had on underneath.

“I think this is the shortest a skirt can be before it’s not a skirt anymore, don’t you?” Yuta asked with obvious amusement, stepping slowly back in front of him. “Hooker heels. And you don’t even have proper underwear on. Take off everything but the dress.” Doyoung did so without argument, stepping out of the shoes first before pushing the stockings and thong down his legs and kicking them aside— he was about to bend over and pick them up, too, but as quick as he could blink, Yuta’s hand was at his throat, backing him up against the wall. Suddenly, without the shoes, Yuta  _ felt _ taller; in moments like these, Doyoung noticed, he tended to feel himself shrink. The strength behind Yuta’s grip gave him nervous butterflies. He knew the other would never hurt him (not without permission anyway), but he still loved the vague thrill of danger he felt anyway.

“Keep your hands behind your back,” Yuta ordered, keeping Doyoung easily compliant with his hold on his throat. He didn’t need to squeeze; just the suggestion of pressure was enough. “I suppose I can forgive the messy state you’re in, since I’d planned on making a mess of you anyway.” He kissed Doyoung firmly, possessively, while his free hand went straight up the back of his skirt and gave his ass a hard squeeze. Doyoung’s back arched, his hips pressing into Yuta’s, and he moaned against his lips with unrestrained lust.

When they finally parted, Doyoung was left breathless, head spinning from the intensity of all the feelings coming upon him at once. Sex was so many different facets and angles for him: the physical pleasure, the emotional intimacy, the build-up before and the release afterwards. But in that moment, there was only one thing that mattered— and that was feeling powerless in Yuta’s hands, giving up control and losing himself in the fantasy that became more real for him every time they played it.  _ This time especially. _

“Look at you, this hard already when I’ve barely touched you. Eager to please, aren’t you?”

It was supposed to be a roleplay, it wasn’t even supposed to really be  _ them,  _ so Doyoung felt silly about becoming so suddenly moved. But he had to say what he was thinking, he physically  _ had _ to— and though his voice was nothing more than a whisper, the look in Yuta’s eyes made it unmistakably clear that he heard him.

“I’m all yours, Master. Please, do whatever you want to me, because I’m fucking _ yours.” _

Yuta smiled— not a smirk, but a smile for just a moment, full warmth and affection, even a second quick kiss that made Doyoung almost lose himself again. The hand at his throat dropped, only for Yuta’s other hand to grab his hair instead. “It’s sweet that you think that's not obvious,” he replied with a note of sarcasm, tugging him by his hair towards the bed. He was given a quick push, falling gently to the mattress on his hands and knees, and Yuta continued on, voice dripping with faux-sweetness that made his whole being feel tight with anticipation and arousal: “If you’re going to dress like a whore, then I’m going to treat you like a whore. Understand?”

“Yes, Master. Please,” Doyoung whispered, subdued and submissive— maybe it would sound like acting, but Doyoung’s mind was only half where it should have been. He felt like he was on the edge of something, disoriented like he was half-drunk, giddy with excitement.

The aggression with which Yuta grabbed Doyoung’s wrists and held them behind his back caught him off-guard, and so did the spark that lit in his stomach and took over him like a fever. With his cheek pressed into the pillow and his skirt bunched up around his waist, he couldn’t turn to watch what was happening, and he squealed at the dribble of cold lubricant between his spread ass cheeks. Two fingers penetrated him roughly, making his body jerk forward, and he could already feel pre-cum from his neglected cock smearing into his petticoat.

The crack of skin against skin reached his ears before the sting of being slapped registered with his brain— once, twice, three times, each making him yelp in surprise. “Hold still,” his boyfriend warned, fingers plunging back into him. Finding Doyoung’s prostate with his fingers was an easy feat now, and Yuta sought it out with a sort of sadistic intensity until Doyoung began to pant and keen and wiggle in his grasp. It was too much, he was going to have no choice but to cum… and then, of course, at the perfect moment, Yuta stopped and made him huff in frustration.

“No, no. You don’t deserve it. Not yet, slut.” There it was, there it  _ was, _ that word was like a magical spell, making Doyoung into instant putty.

When Yuta slammed into him, it was with one hand still holding his wrists and the other tangled in his hair, and Doyoung was so out of his mind with pleasure that none of that fucking  _ mattered. _ He would have bruises on his arms the next day, maybe even on his ass from the force of Yuta’s hips drilling into him again and again, but he was too swept up in the endorphin rush, the sensation of his entire body tingling from head to toe. He wasn’t even aware that he was the one crying out in pleasure with every thrust until he instinctively bit down on the pillow and the noise became muffled. He didn’t have the space to move his hips much in return, but as he edged closer and closer to cumming, Yuta’s grip on his wrists released and he wrapped his fingers around Doyoung’s waiting cock instead.  _ Perfect—  _ Doyoung had  _ just _ enough time to curl his fingers into the mattress for dear life before he came into Yuta’s hand with a quiet sob.

“I’ll give you a chance to redeem yourself,” Yuta grunted in his ear, keeping up the quick thrusting of his hips while tugging Doyoung’s head back by his hair. His thumb brushed against the submissive’s lips, demanding entrance. “Clean up your mess.” Doyoung’s response was immediate, tongue flicking out without question to lap up his cum off of his master's fingers. It tasted different than Yuta's, certainly a little off-putting, but he was eager to please and sucked each digit clean in turn— finishing in perfect timing with a second “mess” that he created in his skirt, hands free.

“God…” Even Yuta’s voice was trembling as he lay beside him and pulled him against his chest. “You’re amazing. I don’t think I tell you often enough, how fucking amazing you are…” His words were slow to register in Doyoung’s brain, which felt like it was waking up from a long nap. He wasn’t yet capable of words, and when Yuta kissed him on the temple and asked, “Everything okay, baby? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Doyoung could only respond by wrapping his arms tight around him and nodding into his shoulder.

_ Subspace is exhausting. _ The thought hit him by surprise, but really, it wasn’t unlikely. What else could he call it, the dizzy sense of euphoria? It was as if his body and mind had been so overstimulated that he’d simply…  _ broken  _ for a moment, and now Yuta’s gentle hands were smoothing all the pieces back together. It was refreshing, exhilarating, but it had completely wiped him out.

“You look so tired,” Yuta pointed out, eerily in sync with his thoughts, fluffing Doyoung’s hair affectionately. “Want me to run you a bath before anyone else gets home?”

“You mean a bath without seven other people banging on the door wanting to pee? That sounds heavenly.” Doyoung smiled weakly, kissing Yuta’s cheek and wrapping a leg around him to keep him from moving. “But cuddle for five more minutes first? Sounds nonsensical, but I  _ miss _ you. Just… stay here with me, Master.”

Yuta chuckled dryly. “Wait, why are you still in character?”

“I’m not.”

Doyoung blushed faintly as he answered, and there was no missing the fresh wave of color that took over Yuta’s cheeks in return. For a second, they simply looked into each other’s eyes, both uncertain of what to do next. “You’re so fucking cute,” Yuta whispered at last, pulling his lover close and planting a sweet kiss on his forehead. It didn’t last more than a few minutes (Doyoung really did need that bath), but he couldn’t help but think that he would have stayed there forever if it were possible, just letting Yuta stroke his hair.

//

Touring was a pain in the ass in a lot of ways. Luckily, touring Japan didn’t have the pitfall of a fourteen-hour flight, but there was still the airport, the plane, waiting for luggage, waiting for a van,  _ overheating  _ in the van while waiting for their manager— ugh, Doyoung didn’t want to keep thinking about it. By the time they arrived at the hotel, the last thing he wanted to do was  _ go _ anywhere; when Jungwoo suggested they all go out for sushi, Doyoung was the first to state that he’d rather nap, and Yuta volunteered to stay back with him.

“Whaaat! But you’re  _ home!” _ Taeyong had pouted in Yuta’s direction.

“Yeah, I’ve had sushi in Japan about a  _ hundred thousand _ times, so I’m good.”

“But who’s going to read me the menu then!” Donghyuck interjected— a far more important question than Taeyong’s.

“I have faith in you, Hyuck. You’ll manage.” Yuta smiled sweetly, and put an end to any more dissent by stating, “I want to call my mom before it gets too late, to see if I can meet up with her tomorrow while we’re in Osaka. Sorry, guys! Another time!”

When they got to the hotel, everybody checked in and dropped off their luggage, but only Yuta and Doyoung stayed long enough to settle in. Doyoung went instantly for the closest bed; the blankets were luxuriously soft, and he almost moaned as he sank into them. Napping would have been nice, but sleep wasn’t exactly in the front of his mind, despite what he’d claimed.

The glass doors to the balcony slid open and then closed as Yuta returned from his phone call, and he latched them as quietly as he could manage. Doyoung stayed motionless, face hidden in the pillow to conceal his smile; after a moment, Yuta settled on the opposite bed with a little sigh, opening his suitcase to get his phone charger and a book. Doyoung peeked— yes, Yuta was seriously going to read and ignore him.

“You’re boring.”

“You’re sleeping,” Yuta countered in amusement, though the look he shot him was nothing short of devious. “Had a feeling you were faking it, though. I didn’t think you’d come back to the hotel and pass out with a butt plug in.”

The acknowledgement of it, so casually, just about drove Doyoung crazy. Preparing for their tour had been a long, busy process, with lots of days too exhausting for anything more than a peck on the lips at the end of the day. The plug had been a surprise from Yuta that morning, the end to an agonizing dry spell— and while it definitely kept his mind occupied on the plane, it didn’t do as much as he would have hoped to stimulate him. Not without Yuta’s magic, anyway.

Reaching across the space between their beds, he tugged on Yuta’s sleeve. “Play with me,” he requested with a pout. Now that he had a practical application for aegyo, he was getting quite good at it. “Pleeease?”

“Aww. But you look so cozy and soft!”

Before Doyoung could set about convincing him, Yuta tapped on his phone screen a few times, and he gasped as the toy buzzed to life within him. “Can you behave yourself for a few minutes? I want to finish this chapter.”

“Hn— ahh… o-okay, Master…” Doyoung’s answer was shaky, and reflexively, he arched his back, sighing in pleasure. It was just a light vibration, not enough, and Yuta was so nonchalant about it— it made him want to beg, but he bit his lip and softly whimpered instead. “You’re mean!”

“That’s not behaving.”

“Hmph.” Doyoung snorted, settling into the bedsheets, but it was hard to wait. Besides, their groupmates wouldn’t be gone for very long. They were wasting precious time. Sitting up slowly, he wriggled himself out of his tight jeans, exhaling in relief when his straining erection was freed. Yuta glanced up from his book, raising an eyebrow and smirking. “Don’t worry, you can keep reading, hyung! I’m just getting ready.”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay,” Yuta replied simply, raising up the book again. Doyoung sat on the edge of the bed, scooting between Yuta’s legs and moving to undo his belt buckle. Yuta made no move to stop him from pulling out his cock, only half-hard, though he laughed softly as Doyoung began to suck on his head. “You’re making it very hard to concentrate.”

Doyoung smiled coyly as he pulled back, pressing a reverent kiss to Yuta’s quickly hardening shaft. He loved being tied up and teased and fucked and spanked and all manner of other submissive activities, but really, he had a special appreciation for giving head. On one hand, it gave him a chance to spoil Yuta with pleasure and attention, something his boyfriend wholly deserved— but it also gave him a sense of control he wasn’t used to, and it was fun to watch Yuta come apart beneath him.  _ Come on, I know you can’t say no to my mouth. _ When Yuta sighed and begrudgingly slid his bookmark into place, he knew that he’d won.

“Greedy as always. I shouldn’t be surprised. Well, then…” Yuta sighed, as though Doyoung were truly inconveniencing him, before his hand threaded into his hair and pushed him lower. It was a challenge, but one he was more than willing to take. As Yuta made use of his throat, pushing Doyoung to take his entire length with each thrust of his hips, he slowly turned up the vibrations of the butt plug until Doyoung could no longer resist the temptation to touch himself through his boxers.

_ “Fuck,  _ you look so pretty…” Yuta’s voice was tinged with a lustful sort of growl that went right to Doyoung’s cock. Funnily enough, even with tears gathering in his eyes and his own drool dripping down his chin, he absolutely believed that Yuta meant it. “That’s it, slut. Don’t be shy, I want to hear you moan for me…” His breath became irregular as he got closer to cumming, his grip tightening and his thighs quivering, and Doyoung took this as a cue to jerk himself off quicker. All according to plan, he lost control of himself and came just seconds before his boyfriend flooded his mouth, but kept Yuta’s cock stubbornly between his lips until he’d sucked it dry. It was probably strange, but he’d liked it from first taste: sweet, salty, so good that he even caught what dribbled from the corner of his mouth with his tongue.

Not five minutes afterwards, while Doyoung was in the bathroom cleaning himself up, a knock sounded at the door. “Hey, you guys decent? I don’t want to walk in to a dick in the face.”

“Why do you always assume that we’re fucking?” Yuta called from the bed, voice edged with a very convincing irritation.

“Because you’re  _ always _ fucking.” Johnny opened the door mid-sentence, and Doyoung felt his stomach drop, quickly slamming the bathroom door closed. Yeah, he wasn’t  _ naked,  _ but a hotel bathrobe wasn’t much better. Not to mention— “Yeah, my dudes, it smells like sex in here.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m a virgin.”

_ “Right.  _ Anyway, we decided we want to drink, so we got sushi to go, and we’re all in Mark and Hyuck’s room. The rest of us are making a secret drinking game out of it, you need to drink for every time they do something that reminds you that they’re fucking. They’re, like,  _ crazy _ bad at subtlety.” Johnny’s fingers tapped on the bathroom door, and he addressed Doyoung directly through it, voice laced with amusement. “Once you’re done showering off your shame, come join us!”

“You’re just jealous that Taeil isn’t  _ adventurous _ like we are,” Doyoung retorted. A bold place to take things, considering he was splashing the evidence of their own  _ adventure _ off of his face and into the sink.

“Oof. Fine, I’ll leave you alone if that’s how you’re going to be,” Johnny quipped back, adding before he departed, “Don’t blow us off! We got really good sake!”

When Doyoung emerged from the bathroom, feeling refreshed and just the  _ tiniest  _ bit flustered still, Yuta was waiting with his book where he’d left him. Still, Doyoung could feel Yuta’s eyes on his turned back as he dropped the robe and unzipped his suitcase for a clean pair of underwear. (The ones he’d been wearing were on the bathroom floor now, unfortunately soiled.) “How are you feeling, babe? Up to drinking tonight?” Yuta asked gently. They were both introverts, and Yuta knew better than anyone else in the group how important mood was to Doyoung’s sociability. Stressful situations (like tours) could sometimes set his brain into a disarray, but strangely, Doyoung felt more clear-headed than he’d been all morning.

“Just for an hour or two. I wouldn’t miss a chance to make fun of Donghyuck,” Doyoung chuckled, pulling his discarded t-shirt back over his head and his jeans soon after. “Especially not with you! My favorite person to be an asshole with.” He smiled as he sat beside Yuta on the edge of the bed, snatching the hem of his shirt and pulling him gently in for a kiss. “My favorite person  _ ever.” _

It was hard,  _ so hard,  _ to make it just one kiss. Doyoung made it worth it, kissing him softly but deeply, sweet affection and simmering lust all in one. When he pulled away, it was with Yuta’s bottom lip snagged lightly between his teeth, and he giggled at the unintentional little moan that slipped from Yuta’s throat as they pulled apart.

“We don’t have to stay long, we have an early day tomorrow,” Yuta decided aloud, tugging Doyoung back by the wrist for one more gentle peck. “Besides, this is a really nice hotel room. It would be a shame to let it go to waste.”

//

_ ➭ What do you want for your birthday? _

It was only one week before Yuta’s birthday when he asked, which probably wasn’t responsible planning on Doyoung’s part. Schedules had been crazy, preparations for a comeback were beginning, and Doyoung was once again faced with the monumental task of mastering another choreography. Looking at the calendar and seeing that October was more than halfway done had made the blood drain from his face earlier that day— Yuta’s birthday, after all, was on the 26th.

_ Yuta hyung  _ 💘   
_ ➭ you :) _ _  
_ _ ➭ all the love you have to offer _

_ ➭ Grrrr, you are so hard to shop for _ _  
_ _ ➭ You HAVE everything _

_ Yuta hyung  _ 💘 _  
_ _ ➭ omo…  _ 👉👈

_ ➭ What is that… _ _  
_ _ ➭ Should that make my heart race the way it does? _

_ Yuta hyung  _ 💘 _  
_ _ ➭ hey remember the time I surprise-rode your dick?? _ _  
_ _ ➭ and then you pounded me into the mattress?? _ _  
_ _ ➭ remember that _

_ ➭ I- _ _  
_ _ ➭ I would not forget that. _

_ Yuta hyung  _ 💘 _  
_ _ ➭  _ 👅💦 _  
_ _ ➭ i want that _ _  
_ _ ➭ again _ _  
_ _ ➭ pls _

_ ➭ hFKHFH TAEYONG WAS READING OVER MY SHOULDER _ _  
_ _ ➭ I am going to combust _

_ Yuta hyung  _ 💘 _  
_ _ ➭ tell him not to be too jealous  _ ✌

Doyoung still bought Yuta something on his birthday, of course— a nice leather jacket, perfect for the autumn weather. True to Doyoung’s imagination, his boyfriend looked  _ devastatingly _ perfect in it, which made it worth the barrage of jokes from the band about his speculated leather fetish. The cake unveiling had been particularly iconic: a lovely little bakery-made cake covered in chocolate buttercream, “enhanced” after purchase with a crudely-drawn icing dick piped on top in white. Johnny couldn’t keep from snickering as he presented the box, cracking the punchline while Yuta opened it: “The bakery didn’t have your favorite flavor, unfortunately, so we came as close as we could.”

_ “Ha.  _ You guys are  _ so _ fucking original, no one has  _ ever  _ made a joke about me liking penises before.”

(Doyoung fucking loved these guys, all of them. The moment was touching, in its own way.)

Of course, everyone had to get their birthday ribbing in, if only to remind Yuta of the fact that he was getting old; Doyoung took the distraction as the perfect opportunity to send Yuta a discreet text.

_ ➭ Slip away when you can and go to the bedroom. I won’t be far behind.  _ 😊

Yuta didn’t reply, except with the fleeting but wicked glance he aimed Doyoung’s way while he licked the last of the frosting from his fork. Then, predictably fast and  _ incredibly _ smooth, Yuta covered his mouth and yawned. “I guess my age is showing, I’m tired tonight. I think I’m going to go wash my face and stuff. Thank you for the dick cake! It was  _ very _ thoughtful, even if it didn’t taste like dicks.”

Of course, after Yuta disappeared down the hallway, there were more eyes watching Doyoung’s every move. He knew to expect this, and he gave it five minutes before he casually stood from the couch himself.

“Told you. Once Yuta disappears, Doyoung always follows,” Mark pointed out, sending a titter of laughter through the living room. “Are you ‘tired’ too, hyung?”

“I’m going to do the dishes,” Doyoung answered indignantly, shooting him a look. “Unless you and Hyuck want to come do them! Plenty of private kissy-smoochy time!”  _ That _ shut them up. Doyoung sighed in relief, and set to work cleaning up the mess from the cake as quickly as possible— he certainly didn’t want to keep Yuta waiting.

With the others slipped back into conversation and distracted, Doyoung made his way swiftly to the bedroom, pushing the door open as quietly as he could manage. Yuta had made himself comfortable in bed, face comfortably serene, as though already asleep. Doyoung tried to make very little noise as he approached, to catch Yuta by surprise, but when he knelt by the bedside to give him a kiss on the cheek, Yuta instinctively moved into the touch like a cat seeking its master’s hand. “Hi, kitten…” He pulled Doyoung in for a kiss of his own, soft and sweet and sensual, drawing him up onto the bed with him with impatient hands.

“This is really what you want for your birthday sex? Out of all the kinky things?”

Yuta giggled, eyes fluttering open to meet Doyoung’s. The electricity never failed to  _ crackle _ between them, how was that? “We do so much kinky stuff, doesn’t it almost seem like it would be kinkier to just have rough, passionate, but  _ completely  _ vanilla sex for a change? Looking into each other’s eyes and all that?”

Doyoung didn’t want to admit it, but the thought was turning him on, pressing all the right buttons. “Honestly? Yeah, that sounds kind of great.” Truthfully, Doyoung had been thinking something along the same lines, and hearing Yuta put it into words only validated the sentiment for him. “Yuta hyung—”

“Whatever you’re about to say, say it while you’re undressing me. I can’t take it anymore.”

Doyoung laughed aloud— and then quickly shifted his weight, catching one of Yuta’s wrists against the mattress and seeking out the other one with his opposite hand so he could pin them down above his head. “Rude.”

“Yeah. I’m a bratty bottom.” Yuta grinned, but made no struggle as Doyoung straddled him. “I won’t apologize. Hurry up, I really want you inside me. Thinking about it has been distracting me all day.”

Being rough with Yuta was a mindfuck. After all, Doyoung spent a good chunk of their sex life restrained, unable to touch Yuta much at all; it felt like sacrilege to hold him down and be forceful, to take a chance at leaving bruises, even at Yuta’s own request. “You’re not going to  _ actually  _ hurt me,” Yuta teased breathlessly, but even so, Doyoung took the most pleasure from the soft things. Running his hands and mouth over every inch of him, feeling Yuta squirm and giggle when Doyoung’s lips found a ticklish spot. The sound of his boyfriend’s quickening breath as Doyoung kissed his way up the soft skin of his thighs, the way it caught in his throat when he finally kissed his hard member. Knowing that Yuta was particularly desperate, he took his time stretching him out with his fingers— thrusting slow, steady, and deep until Yuta was whining and his knees were shaking.  _ Oh. This _ is _ fun. _

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, just…”

“Ask me nicely, then.”

Yuta’s eyes flashed with surprise, cheeks flooding with pink. His grin mirrored Doyoung’s for a moment, and then he yanked him down into a desperate, bruising kiss. “That how it’s gonna be?” he questioned breathlessly between kisses, legs wrapping around his waist. “I need you to fuck me. Pound me into the mattress.  _ Please.” _

Doyoung shifted his hips, and Yuta winced at first as he was filled, taking a moment to adjust— the tightness of Yuta’s muscles twitching around him was so tantalizing that Doyoung had to kiss him to keep himself quiet. He followed Yuta’s lead to start, letting him establish a comfortable rhythm, and only when Yuta’s fingers curled into the bedsheets and his eyes rolled back in his head did Doyoung pick up the pace and intensity. He was  _ adorably  _ reactive, especially when Doyoung found the perfect angle that melted his vocabulary into incoherent curses and whimpers. Their orgasms came at the same time— they’d gotten pretty good at timing it that way, but this time was just luck, because Doyoung wouldn’t have been able to hold himself back. His whole body tightened, flooded with euphoria, and he simply  _ couldn’t stop  _ kissing Yuta. His lips, his neck, his shoulders, wherever he could reach.

The silence was cozy, just kissing and caressing and keeping out the rest of the world for as many more minutes as they could buy. Words weren’t necessary. Worrying about whether or not they’d been heard was pointless. Yuta’s hand rested on Doyoung’s chest, right over his heart; no ulterior motives, just feeling the blood rushing through him.

Yuta spoke at last, a sleepy whisper that Doyoung nearly discounted: “Don’t go anywhere.”

“What do you mean? This is  _ my _ bed, too, you weirdo.” Doyoung teased him, settling into his arms. As always, Doyoung was the little spoon, no matter how they’d chosen to get off. He relished in Yuta’s arms around his body, lips perfectly poised to kiss the shell of his ear.

“I know. Just…” Yuta sighed, breath unsteady, words lazily slurred.  _ Guess I really did a number on him. _ Yuta trailed off, simply squeezing Doyoung tight, and it wasn’t until he was half asleep that Doyoung realized what Yuta was saying.

They’d been together for a little over a year, and they’d never talked long-term. They’d never talked about _two_ years, or three, or five, or military enlistment, or NCT disbandment— they had a lot of years left, and it was fear of the unknown that stopped Doyoung from mentioning or even really thinking about all the time passing. Obviously, though, Yuta had been thinking about it.  _ “Don’t go anywhere.” Don’t worry, I can’t picture myself anywhere else. _ He fell asleep with a faint smile on his lips, Yuta's arms around them and his heart beating against Doyoung's shoulder.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo basically this was meant to be a 3 chapter story, but due to 1) me being completely delayed by my inability to write one thing at once, and, 2) this chapter hitting 20 pages, which just sorta seems like a lot, I decided to split the last part into two shorter chapters! What will be chapter 4 is roughly half done...ish... and kind of wraps up the "storyline" components, while this part here is some more gratuitous smut :)

“Hey, you!” Yuta glanced behind himself when Doyoung opened the studio door, freeing one ear from the sound-cancelling headphones he wore. “Bored at home without me, huh?”

It was true, Doyoung never knew what to do with himself on his days off. He slept in until nearly noon, a rarity for him, but then found the dorms empty but for Jungwoo and Taeil, bingeing dramas on the couch with all the lights off. Johnny and Jaehyun had individual schedules that day, Mark and Taeyong were practicing with SuperM, Donghyuck with NCT Dream, and Yuta had opted to go off to the company building and tinker in the production studio for awhile. He’d been working even more tirelessly than usual, it seemed— and Yuta had never been a slouch when it came to practicing.

“Let’s get dinner together. I was getting hungry, and then I figured you wouldn’t be smart enough to feed yourself if I left you alone,” Doyoung teased, grinning as he took his usual place on the lumpy little couch. This particular studio was shared amongst the 127 members, but Taeyong and Mark were the ones most likely to come in and fiddle around on projects; the mess of papers, candy wrappers, and energy drink cans littering the space reflected that. _“And_ I was bored. Tired of watching Jungwoo and Taeil sit around like slugs. Thought I’d come beg you to play some of your songs for me.”

“Nothing’s exactly ready yet,” Yuta admitted, switching the sound over to the speakers and tapping the play button. It was a down-tempo synth track, dreamy and comforting, with a mood that made Doyoung feel vaguely nostalgic. “I want to write lyrics for it, but… I don’t think my voice is right for something like this.” Yuta pulled his feet up into the chair with him as though trying to make himself smaller, and he couldn’t seem to keep from touching his hair again and again, twirling the loose locks around his fingers. His face was carefully neutral, but by this point, Doyoung knew to look at everything _but_ Yuta’s face. The anxiety was plain to him now. When Yuta felt it, Doyoung could feel it too, radiating out of him.

He nudged his leg against Yuta’s chair to get his attention, smiling in reassurance. “I think it’s amazing! And I think it would go beautifully with your voice! Plus, you’d be _completely_ spoiling your fans. And me, your number one fan.”

“Maybe someday. Thinking about singing by myself sort of freaks me out. Is that bad?” Yuta laughed at himself, only half-sincere.

“No, but it’s silly because you sing for a living! Not to mention, because you sing with me all the time. And I love your voice.” Their little duets, always impromptu, always dramatically romantic— they wouldn’t have been the same without Yuta’s baritone, filling out all the spaces Doyoung’s voice couldn’t.

Yuta was quiet until the song ended, fading out into nothing. It immediately began to repeat, until he tapped the space bar again to pause the track in the opening bars. His gaze was shy, flicking from the monitor to Doyoung, his question tentative: “Would you sing it with me, once the lyrics are done? If the company lets me, I want to release it, and…” Once more, Yuta averted his gaze, this time looking down at his fingers as he fidgeted and positively melting Doyoung’s heart. “...and, I don’t know. I want people to hear us together, I guess…”

“You want to duet for real?” Doyoung found himself smiling so hard that it hurt. They sang together every day, but never just _the two of them._ It sounded so innocently intimate, and suddenly, he was craving not just Yuta’s company but his touch. He hooked the base of Yuta’s rolling chair with his foot, tugging him subtly closer and making Yuta smile. “Is it going to be a love song?”

“Naturally.” Yuta got the non-verbal message, as usual, and slipped from the chair to the sofa beside Doyoung. His arm made its way naturally around Doyoung’s shoulders, like it was made to be there, and his lips went automatically to his boyfriend’s cheek as though drawn by a magnet. “And we can sing it to each other, even if nobody else realizes it.”

Doyoung grinned, turning his head to plant a kiss on Yuta’s lips. “I love that. You’re so romantic!” The kiss felt especially good when he hadn’t really kissed Yuta all day, so he stole a second, feeling a little thrill as their lips parted, their tongues mingled, and Yuta instinctively pushed him against the back cushions of the sofa. “Taeyong would have a conniption if he knew we were making out in here,” Doyoung breathed against Yuta’s lips, lightheaded with anticipation.

“You think so?” Doyoung felt Yuta’s telltale smile form against his lips, something that always gave him a shiver of excitement. “I think we’re a little sneakier now than we used to be… How adventurous are you feeling?”

The proposition made Doyoung’s heart begin to pound. It was true, there were people around them all the time, and that was why Doyoung and Yuta had been careful to keep all of their activities hidden in the bedroom. They were strict about keeping their shared showers brief and restrained (after all, there were nine of them sharing one hot water heater), and they’d even managed to go all this time without fucking on the couch, or the kitchen counter tops, or the balcony (even though Yuta joked about it, and Doyoung was certain that they would have if they weren’t famous). Getting hot and heavy in the studio seemed even more dangerous than the dorm living room, and yet Doyoung was spreading his thighs as Yuta’s fingers worked at his fly, gripping his shoulders tight in anticipation. “This room is sound-proof… isn’t it?” Doyoung asked unsteadily, having to fight the distraction of Yuta’s lips on his neck.

“Yeah, but who’s going to interrupt us anyway? Only 127 members have the passcode to this studio, and everyone who usually uses it is busy today.” He popped the button on Doyoung's pants easily, relieving the uncomfortable tightness and drawing out a sigh of satisfaction. “That’s why I don’t want you to hold anything back this time. I want to hear all those adorable sounds of yours…”

Doyoung’s head was already spinning with excitement, and he had to remind himself to draw another breath, to gather his voice and answer: “Yes, hyung…” Yuta slipped his hand into the front of his boxers and gave his cock a light squeeze as he spoke, and Doyoung cut himself off with an embarrassing moan. “We should just— b-be quick, though, just in case…”

“Just in case?” Yuta’s hand was keeping a slow and steady pace, driving Doyoung crazy with each tug. “Let’s be real, Taeyong and Mark would hardly be surprised to catch you this way. They know how spoiled and needy you are, they already listen to you through the walls.”

The wave of heat that washed over Doyoung’s body was positively feverish. Without thinking, he bit back a moan, his teeth sunk into his bottom lip and his eyes fluttering closed. The _smack_ of skin against skin registered in his mind before the pain bloomed in his left cheek, stinging and mild; all of that, though, was nothing compared to the humbling realization that he’d been slapped like a petulant child.

“You were given one job, and it was to let me hear you,” Yuta’s voice was just above a whisper, but it grabbed Doyoung’s attention. _Especially_ since his hand had stopped and was simply— _holding_ his cock, already heavy with arousal. “Open your mouth, slut.”

His teeth released his bottom lip instantly (fuck, sometimes he responded to that name faster than his real one), and he sucked in a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, Master. I’ll try harder…”

Yuta’s lips brushed against Doyoung’s stinging cheek, almost as an afterthought, but the tenderness of the gesture gave Doyoung goosebumps and made him suddenly need to clutch the edge of the couch for stability. Yuta cared so much, even in the moments when he wasn’t supposed to.

In Doyoung’s moment of distraction, Yuta started to jerk him off again, and he didn’t have to bite back his moan even if he’d wanted to. The high-pitched, keening whine that passed his lips caught them both off-guard, and he had to clutch his own wrists behind his back to keep from hiding behind his hands. This didn’t escape Yuta’s notice, and though Doyoung’s eyes had fallen closed, he felt his heart swell when his boyfriend chuckled.

“Good boy.” And that right there made it worthwhile. Yuta just had a way of praising him that lit him up inside, elevated him more than even a stadium full of screaming fans could do.

Without the privacy of their bedroom, they were working with limited time— how limited, they didn’t know, which was sort of the fun part. It gave them a sense of urgency that they’d never really had before, a rush that was _incredibly_ hot. There was no time to undress each other fully, touching and kissing every inch of skin, warming each other up with their mouths before the final act. This time, it was jeans pushed down to their knees, Doyoung trembling as he propped himself up on the arm of the sofa with his ass in the air, and a generous amount of saliva to make up for their lack of lube. It smarted a little more than Doyoung was used to when Yuta thrust into him, but the pain came with a rush not unlike the one that made spanking so thrilling.

“This okay?” Yuta sounded breathless already, which made Doyoung smile.

“It’s _perfect._ Fuck me hard, hyung. I can take it.”

After that, the pain was negligible— pain and pleasure, after all, weren’t so different, and once you added endorphins into the mix, it all just mingled together into ecstacy. Like a snowball effect: the more he had, the more he wanted, the more he cried out and cursed and begged, the more he egged Yuta on to push his face against the couch cushion and pound into him harder. He barely even noticed the sound of his phone buzzing on the desk at first, it took a second phone call for him to register that this might be something important.

“F-Fuck, wait, hyung, it might be our manager—”

Yuta reached for the phone, lifting it just enough to see the name “Taeyong hyung” on the screen. Almost in unison, they both sighed, and Yuta let the phone clatter back down onto the wood.

“Taeyong can wait. You’re mine right now.” His hands gripped Doyoung’s hips hard enough to bruise— Doyoung could already picture the finger-shaped marks, and the looks of judgment that his members would shoot him if they noticed in the dressing room. “Beg for it, you little slut.”

“Master, I need it _…”_ Doyoung’s fingers curled into the edge of the couch cushion as he whined, clenching around Yuta just to hear him gasp. “Fuck me wide open. I’ll do _anything,_ Master…”

Doyoung’s phone stayed silent _just_ until they’d found their rhythm again. Then, inevitably, it started to buzz. Like a fly, or a mosquito. And Doyoung simply had no patience for it. _What could he possibly need that couldn’t wait ten more minutes?_ “Ignore it. Fuck me,” he decided, more of a command than a plea for once. “I’m _so_ close…”

Yuta seemed all too happy to oblige him, but Taeyong had been a reminder of the world outside, and the fact that they needed to hurry. This meant a position change: Doyoung always managed the best orgasms when he was on top, bouncing up and down on Yuta’s lap while his boyfriend gripped his hips. It made Yuta’s thrusts hit at the perfect angle, drawing desperate cries from Doyoung’s throat in perfect time with the rhythm of their skin smacking together. He was aware of his mouth opening, pleading mindlessly with Yuta for _more, harder, faster,_ and then— 

_Perfection._ It was a true full-body orgasm, making every nerve ending jolt and tingle, making his vision blur with tears, making his hands clench themselves so hard that his fingers cramped. Everything muscle went tight and then limp, the bliss that washed over him unmatched. It left him unable to move, unable to think, for several seconds after it was over— and Yuta didn’t ask him to, simply holding Doyoung against his chest and pressing soft kisses against his flushed face.

“He’s calling again. You don’t think something’s wrong, do you?” Yuta reached over Doyoung for his phone, clearly debating whether or not to answer it himself, but Doyoung snatched it from his fingers before he could make a decision.

“Nothing’s wrong. Look.” Doyoung hit the “answer” button despite being half-breathless still, and answered flatly: “What do you want, hyung?”

 _“About time! I was starting to think you didn’t love me anymore!”_ Taeyong’s voice was bright, even after spending the entire day sweating in the dance studio, which made it all the more infuriating. _“Mark and I are coming back in an hour to practice more, but in the meantime we’re getting a pizza to eat in the studio while I mess around with some beats. I was calling to see if you wanted to join us and see if you had any topping preferences, but we’re already on our way back with it.”_

“Oh, uh—” Doyoung’s stomach dropped as soon as he made sense of what Taeyong had said, and he ripped himself from Yuta’s arms a moment later so that he could pull up his pants and readjust all his clothes. “Yeah, that sounds good! Yuta hyung, too?” Yuta had pulled himself together, though his hair was a mess, and Doyoung could see where he’d bitten Yuta’s bottom lip a bit too carelessly, leaving the skin broken and already swelling.

 _“Yeah, of course. I don’t invite you anywhere without the expectation that Yuta will be there,”_ Taeyong teased, chuckling warmly. _“Is that why you sound so out of breath? When you first answered, I was gonna ask if you’d gone to the gym or something, but— I should have known better.”_

Doyoung didn’t have time to answer. On the other side of the frosted glass studio door, he could make out some vague movement. Then the door unlocked itself with a _beep_ as the passcode was entered, and Taeyong pulled the door open so that Mark could enter first with a large pizza in his arms.

Doyoung looked at Taeyong. Taeyong looked at Doyoung back. He quirked a curious eyebrow, taking in Doyoung’s flushed face, pink lips still parted as he caught his breath, eyes wide and pupils probably blown.

“What’s up?” Yuta was the first to break the silence, remarkably cool as always. Doyoung could have _died,_ just let the floor swallow him up then and there, but he wasn’t so lucky, and so he had to settle for sitting back down and looking down at the floor.

“You _monsters!”_ Taeyong cried out, trying and failing to sound upset. He was a good leader, a strict leader when he had to be, but he’d never been good at administering scoldings, especially when he didn’t really mean them. “God. You’ve probably done it all over the dorm, too! You were just looking for a new place to desecrate!”

“The couch is leather, it's easy to clean up. Get off my dick,” Yuta defended himself simply, grinning at the blushes that instantly took over Mark and Taeyong’s faces. Blushes and no comeback, that meant he’d won. “On that note, we should probably go clean up before we eat, yeah? Come with me, kitten.” He got to his feet and tugged Doyoung along, standing tall to kiss him on the temple.

“Being the sole single member is a big responsibility. Mine is the only brain that’s not completely drugged up on oxytocin at all times,” Taeyong was complaining to Mark as Doyoung shut the studio door behind them— he didn’t think much of it until he was drying his hands in the bathroom a couple minutes later.

“Did Taeyong say he’s the only single member of 127? What the hell is he talking about? Jungwoo and Jaehyun aren't seeing anyone, either.”

Yuta laughed softly. “Well you see, Doyoung, we’ve apparently inspired a gay revolution.”

“You _can’t_ be serious.”

“It was only a matter of time once they moved in together. Jungwoo has had his eyes all over Jaehyun since before he even debuted with us,” Yuta replied simply, bumping the door open with his hip and holding it for Doyoung to go first. “And by the way, I would have _sworn_ Jungwoo was a bottom, but I think Jaehyun was limping while he was getting ready this morning. Pay extra special attention to them and let me know your theories later, okay?”

Doyoung couldn’t keep his smile to himself, he just _couldn’t._ After all the times that Jungwoo had knocked on their shared wall and yelled at them to shut up, all the laundry days that Jaehyun joked about needing a hazmat suit to handle Doyoung and Yuta’s bedsheets… they’d all led up to this, and frankly, Doyoung was living for it. “Shit. I wonder if we really started something! Some kind of sexual liberation movement?” He grabbed Yuta’s hand gently at the studio door, voice dropping quietly: “I guess if you want to get technical, _you_ started something, since you were the one who corrupted me and taught me all your secrets.”

“Yeah, well, none of that would have happened if you hadn’t _inspired_ me. You’re my muse.” Yuta’s smile was soft and genuine as he pulled Doyoung in by his waist and snuck one daring kiss, there in the hallway where anybody could have come around the corner and seen. It had all the nervous excitement of their first kiss out on the balcony, surrounded by the summer breeze and the stars, and it made Doyoung feel like his heart was full to bursting.

//

Sometimes Doyoung inspired ideas on accident (for example, dressing up in women’s clothes— wholly Yuta’s idea, but it turned out that Doyoung felt surprisingly confident and sexy in a skirt and panties, so it was a win-win). Other times Doyoung inspired ideas on purpose (like the time he “accidentally” let Yuta borrow his phone while he had a beginner’s guide to shibari open on the screen— which was actually redundant, as it turned out, Yuta was far from a beginner).

And then other times _entirely,_ Doyoung took great pleasure in being the biggest brat that he knew how.

“Doyoung—”

 _“Shh._ I think the others are asleep.” Doyoung’s voice was scarcely above a whisper against Yuta’s neck. His hand was a little bolder, one impatient finger tracing up the in-seam of Yuta’s jeans. He'd spent the last ten minutes or so pestering Yuta with kisses, but the touch seemed to be what had done it. They’d wrapped up a video shooting in Daegu not long ago, and even though the work day was over, there was still a three hour ride in the van before Doyoung and Yuta would get to fall into bed together. By that time, it would be after midnight and they’d probably both be too exhausted to fool around… but with Taeyong, Johnny, and Taeil seemingly asleep in the seats in front of them, what was there to stop them from utilizing this boring car ride?

“Adrenaline junkie, aren’t you?” Yuta murmured in clear amusement. He hooked a finger under Doyoung’s chin, thumb brushing softly against his bottom lip, and Doyoung’s mouth closed around the digit on instinct, caressing it suggestively with his tongue. “If you want it, you need to ask nicely, slut.”

Doyoung gave Yuta’s thigh a light squeeze at the feeling of euphoria that washed through him— pure butterflies, even after they’d been together for so long. It really was amazing. Feeling brave once more, he leaned in to kiss the shell of Yuta’s ear.

“Please, Master. I want you to fuck my mouth, and give me a nice big load of your cum…”

 _Something_ in there must have struck a chord with Yuta, based on the way his fingers wound through Doyoung’s soft hair and gripped it tight. Doyoung’s aim was to stay quiet, but he couldn’t keep from moaning quietly, earning a heated, open-mouthed kiss to swallow up any more noises— including the one that he made himself when Doyoung popped his fly open and palmed him through his boxers.

From the front of the van, their manager’s phone buzzed on the dashboard, and he answered it— a hard reminder for Doyoung that they were far from alone. He was focused on the road, though, and it was dark in the backseat. They were safe, _reasonably_ safe, but the thrill of danger gave Doyoung a crazy rush. His head felt hazy as the kiss broke, and as Yuta tugged on his hair to bring Doyoung’s head down into his lap, the reaction was automatic: eyes closed, mouth open, mind clear of everything except for _him._

For the sake of discretion, Yuta was gentle as he thrust into his lover’s mouth, keeping him from gagging or making a mess. Even so, he didn’t argue when Doyoung resisted the pull of his hair so that he could swallow Yuta all the way to the base. It was easier than it looked (he’d practiced plenty), and pulling his head up just enough to breathe had become second nature. Yuta was trying to stay quiet, but under the expertise of Doyoung’s mouth, a quiet groan escaped every now and again that went straight to Doyoung’s cock. (Maybe he _would_ find the energy to stay awake once they were home. He wasn’t sure he could wait until their next day off to have Yuta drill him into the mattress.)

“I-I’m going to cum…”

Yuta always gave him fair warning if he was about to cum in his mouth— and most of the time, Doyoung responded just as he did now, by sucking until his cheeks hollowed and not letting up until he got just what he wanted. He knew just how to keep up with swallowing when his mouth was suddenly filled with cum, and he made sure to swallow every drop, not giving up until Yuta gasped and pulled him back by his hair. Doyoung was still hard, but he felt a strange sense of satisfaction anyway, and he took his time placing reverent kisses all over Yuta’s hips and stomach before he sat back up— only to be attacked by Yuta’s lips, completely unafraid of what Doyoung’s mouth had been filled with seconds before.

“I don’t think I tell you this nearly enough, but you’re fucking perfect.”

“Am not. But I must be doing something right if I’m fooling you.” Doyoung was glad for the darkness. It kept Yuta from seeing just how much his words had made him blush until their mouths were feeling each other out again, with his fingers slipping up over Doyoung’s stomach beneath his shirt to tease his nipple—

When his vision was suddenly flooded with harsh light, Doyoung pulled away from the kiss quickly, covering his eyes with his sleeve. “You two. I should have known,” Taeil grumbled, obviously still half asleep as he turned off the flashlight on his phone. “Don’t forget, you’re not alone. Keep your clothes on.”

“We’re just kissing, you prude.” There was such offense in Yuta’s voice when he replied, Doyoung would have believed it himself if he didn’t know any better.

“How much further do we have to go?”

“Probably another hour. Here, hyung, I have a neck pillow you can borrow. I figured I’d need it right about now, but Doyoung’s shoulder is more comfortable.” As Yuta passed the pillow over the seat, Doyoung tried to quell his racing heart, squeezing Yuta’s thigh again to steady his shaking hand. That was _incredibly_ close, and though neither of them were dumb enough to test their luck twice, it _did_ leave Doyoung frustratingly turned on.

“Just wait ‘til we get back. As soon as we do, you’re all mine,” Yuta whispered in Doyoung’s ear as he cuddled up to him again, his embrace somehow protectively snug and heart-achingly gentle all at once. He nuzzled so sweetly against Doyoung’s cheek that for the first time, Doyoung thought maybe he understood what people meant when they talked about falling in love with someone all over again.

“I hope that’s a promise.” Whatever it was, it worked like a shot of caffeine, made his heart pound all over again in a way that only Yuta could do.

//

_“NCT 127 Team Group Chat”_

_[11:48 PM] Johnny: for the people who are in the other van and are not privy to the amazing romantic drama we are experiencing_ _  
_ _[11:49 PM] Johnny: “I don’t think I tell you this enough, but you’re fucking perfect.”_ _  
_ _[11:50 PM] Jaehyun: LOL LAME_ _  
_ _[11:50 PM] Haechan: wait which one of them said that, it’s so stupid i could honestly see it coming from either one_ _  
_ _[11:52 PM] Yuta:_ 😔   
_[11:52 PM] Yuta: man you really got me, i love my boyfriend, how embarrassing_ _  
_ _[11:54 PM] Doyoung: wait...you were asleep_ _  
_ _[11:56 PM] Johnny: yeah til the sound of a certain somebody gagging on a dick woke me up_ _  
_ _[11:58 PM] Taeyong: …………_ _  
_ _[11:59 PM] Doyoung: should have put your headphones on huh_ _  
_ _[11:59 PM] Yuta:_ 🤷‍♀️ _it wasn’t me_

//

“You look so fucking beautiful like this.”

He knew it was stupid, shallow, and petty, but standing between guys like Taeyong and Johnny and Jaehyun, Doyoung usually felt average-looking at best. Never ugly, but never a knockout, either. But when Yuta touched him, and praised him - hell, all Yuta really had to do was look at him in the right way to get it started - Doyoung felt like the hottest guy to ever exist.

Beyond hot. _Beautiful._ He wasn’t sure anyone had ever called him that to his face before, and it made his heart race in a way he wasn’t expecting.

Yuta’s fingertips slid languidly down Doyoung’s bare stomach, tracing the smooth lines of his abs, and Doyoung’s muscles twitched in apprehension, but predictably, he stayed trapped. Not that he really wanted to go anywhere with Yuta’s hand so tantalizingly close to his cock and a fresh trail of bite marks still tingling on his chest. His fingers curled into the chair’s smooth leather, and he whined quietly as Yuta’s fingers changed course and swept aside to pinch and tug at his nipple. His cuffs were joined with a rather long chain that passed behind the chair, giving him very little slack to lower his hands. Certainly not enough to let him interfere with Yuta’s toying, that was the important part.

“Do you know what my favorite thing to do to you is?”

Doyoung’s head was fuzzy with excitement. It seemed like a lot of work to remind himself not to hold his breath with every touch, let alone to answer Yuta’s questions at the same time. “U-um… something tells me that the answer is teasing me. Is that right?” 

“Not quite. There’s something I like more.” The chair rolled easily forward when Yuta pulled on the arms, right up to the edge of the bed where he’d made himself comfortable. The positioning of his own knees was right between Doyoung’s, keeping him from closing his legs any further. “You should know. I go out of my way to do it.”

Yuta’s dark eyes glittered with mischief as he leaned forward, fingers wrapped around Doyoung’s shaft and eased it into his mouth. He'd been teasing Doyoung for long enough that he was aching, and the relief of some meaningful stimulation was indescribably good. Yuta focused his suction on just the head of Doyoung’s cock, making his breath catch hard in his throat, while a single fingertip circled Doyoung’s tight, eager hole. A second later, Doyoung whimpered as he lost Yuta's mouth, cock twitching and drooling.

“Having me helpless like this? I-is that it?” Doyoung was panting, straining once again at the cuffs. He wanted to touch himself, wanted it _bad._

“You know me so well. That’s another good guess, but...” Yuta smirked, swiping up the generous drop of pre-cum that had begun dribbling down his shaft. His lubricated fingers returned to Doyoung’s waiting hole, the younger’s cock throbbing with the uniquely pleasurable sting of being entered. He didn’t have much room for movement, but he arched the best that he could to edge Yuta deeper and spread his legs as far as the chair’s arms would allow. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll know what the answer is, I’ll make sure of it. I’m feeling a little self-indulgent today.”

“You’re going to do something evil.”

“Aw. Why do you say that?” Yuta’s amused tone did not convince him otherwise, not in the least.

“Because I know you _so_ well,” Doyoung teased breathlessly, eyes fluttering closed as the pad of Yuta’s finger brushed over his prostate. The pressure was borderline-uncomfortable, making his toes curl, but he could do nothing but endure with a whimper. “Mmm…”

It was funny, how Doyoung could _know_ to expect something and then immediately forget. It didn’t take long for his mind to go from tense and ready to passive and relaxed, especially once Yuta’s mouth was back on his cock, tongue working his shaft with long, lazy strokes from base to tip. Normally, Yuta liked to tease him for longer, building and denying, sometimes making Doyoung beg for his cock before he would take him and bring him to climax. This time, though— he seemed to be getting right to the point, and Doyoung wasn’t ready for it.

“Yuta hyu— uhn… M-Master, I’m going to cum…”

“Are you?” Of course, that had been just what Yuta was waiting to hear. As soon as Doyoung spoke up, Yuta's mouth broke away, and his cock twitched desperately in protest as his boyfriend continued to rub his prostate. Suddenly left without the friction that he needed, Doyoung’s release was like nothing he’d experienced before, burning deep in his stomach, so good that it almost hurt— and though the big load of cum that squirted across his stomach came with a sense of relief, he remained rock hard and hungry for more. Clearly, Yuta had expected this; his only response was a pause just long enough to scoop up some of the semen that had pooled just below Doyoung’s belly button, using it as lube to add a third finger.

Doyoung instinctively clenched in discomfort. He was sensitive, _so_ sensitive— for a second, it was way too much, but then before he could do anything about it, he was once again on the edge of orgasm. On the edge, ready to mindlessly jump.

“Y-Yu— ta—”

“I love making you cum so much that it feels almost selfish. I like seeing how much I can make you lose control,” Yuta whispered, though Doyoung was only half-able to listen. Yuta’s fingers were wrapped around his shaft again, pumping hard and causing Doyoung’s hips to spasm; but once again, just as the feeling was about to hit him, Yuta abandoned his cock and focused all his attention on his prostate instead. The sensation that crashed into him this time was _abrasively_ pleasurable, and he felt hot all over as he spread his legs and let his knees drape over the arms of the chair. As if to acknowledge his efforts, Yuta’s fingers drilled him even deeper, running over Doyoung’s prostate each time they slipped out of him.

_“Yuta—”_

Yuta’s fingers, naturally, didn’t stop. The pain of overstimulation began as soon as his orgasm began to ebb away, and his wet eyes widened. “Yuta hyung, please— _please, pleasepleaseplease…”_ Funny, he wasn’t even entirely sure what he was pleading for, but every time reflex sent his hips jerking away from Yuta’s touch, it seemed to be in vain. Just as quickly as he’d spread his legs, he instinctively wanted to close them again, but his muscles were too limp with exertion to respond. Instead, he gritted his teeth until he got used to the torturous sensitivity; without even realizing it, he found himself thrusting against Yuta’s fingers again, crying out his concession. It took longer to cum for a third time, but that only made the sensation that much more explosive as his body tried and failed to muster up enough semen for a proper load. Somehow, for the first time in his life, his balls actually seemed to be empty.

Yuta had to know this, and yet his fingers kept going. Doyoung blinked hard; tears, sweat, he wasn’t sure which, but his vision was just about useless by this point. “Yutaaa— ahh,” Doyoung’s voice was shaking all over the place, formalities lost now; it was enough of a miracle that he could speak at all. “I-I can’t— can’t—”

“Didn’t I say I was feeling self-indulgent?” Yuta chuckled; his hand slowed mercifully, but the way he wrapped his free hand around Doyoung’s cock and ran his thumb teasingly over his slit still made him squirm his hips desperately in the hopes of relief. “One more, slut.”

“I-I— I d-don’t know— if I can—” Of course, he knew his safeword, it was on the tip of his tongue. But as hard as it was to endure the feeling, the submission was addicting. Every time he thought he might call for mercy, a whisper of pleasure would remind him what he was holding on for. His legs were shaking, how long had his legs been shaking for? He was thankful for Yuta suddenly kissing his neck; the sensation gave him a momentarily diversion, something to focus on outside of _everything else._

“Mm. I think you can. No matter what, you always eventually seem to go back to begging for it…” Not untrue. His sensitivity was through the roof this time, but beneath the discomfort— _I’m almost there, I’m so fucking close, don’t stop, don’t stop—_ Helplessly, he watched his own cum-coated dick tremor. “What do you want, slut? You want hyung’s mouth to help you along?”

“Y-Yes— please, _please…”_

“Say it.” Yuta’s finger traced lazy circles around his swollen prostate, suddenly stalling. _Mercifully_ stalling.

“W— Want your mouth… ah, I _need it,_ please— p-please suck my cock…”

“You’re so fucking cute. You give the best _reactions,_ I swear.” As if to enunciate his point, he poked at Doyoung’s prostate again, making his hips snap up helplessly, a soft whimper escaping him. But before he could utter a single plea for mercy, Yuta’s soft lips were around him, unbothered by the dripping mess that he’d turned him into.

The combination of his lips, his tongue, and his fingers still thrusting in and out of him was enough to make stars dance across his sight— but then when the pressure finally bloomed into something bigger and rushed through his body, it was too much for him to handle altogether. His vision went blurry, all senses ceased to register any meaning, so overwhelmed with the pleasure, the pain, the _euphoria_ that Yuta was giving to him.

The last conscious thought he remembered having in that moment was one of feeling very lucky, very _loved._

In his next moment of awareness, he was untied, laying in bed and breathing hard, with Yuta gently wiping the perspiration off his forehead with a cloth. Seeing Doyoung’s eyes refocus made him sigh softly in relief, immediately leaning down for a kiss. “Wow. You scared me for a second.”

“Did I seriously cum so hard that I passed out? I thought that was just a made-up porn thing.” Talking was a great deal of effort. Actually, _everything_ was: his muscles were so tired and shaky that he felt like he’d been in stage rehearsals all day.

“I know it happens to other people, but it’s not usual for you, so I was a little freaked out. Are you feeling fine now?” He got to his feet, adding, “I’ll get you some water. And address all the concerns that the others probably have, since you kind of… screamed.”

Doyoung nodded, closing his eyes. He didn’t even have the energy to be embarrassed— the euphoria hadn’t faded, his limbs were still tingling, his heart still racing. When Yuta returned, he had to help Doyoung sit up to drink, and even held onto the glass for him so that it wouldn’t slip from his shaking hands.

“You’re beautiful after, too.”

Doyoung blushed. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, I’ve told you that you look pretty tied up for me, and that you make the most adorable faces when you cum… but I almost think I like you like this even more. The way your cheeks turn pink, and your hair…” Yuta ran his fingers through it with a chuckle, making it stand up with no effort. “You’re just always beautiful, I guess.”

“Yeah? Well, you have a funny way of showing it, if that’s what you meant by tying me up and making me cum until I started to _cry—”_ Doyoung started to tease, but a hand on the nape of his neck and a sweet, lingering kiss cut him off, and by the time Yuta pulled back, Doyoung had forgotten what he was saying in the first place. “I love you,” he finished lamely, still feeling dazed and absolutely spent, but satisfied to his core.

“You’re really okay, though?”

“Don’t worry about me. Worry about _you,_ the next time it’s your turn to bottom. We’ll see how _you_ like it.” (But yes, to answer the question, Doyoung had really never felt better.)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the final sappy installment! This one is less sex and more story, as promised... but of course, it's still chalk-full of sex x3 I hope you enjoy, and thank you so much for reading up til now! This was a largely experimental story (Istg this literally started out as nothing but the milking scene, of all things) but I'm so happy that it evolved in the way it did!

Showering together was a funny thing, because shower thoughts became shower  _ conversations _ when you had someone immediately next to you. Especially someone that wouldn’t judge you for pointing out that birdsong is just birds screaming pick-up lines at each other, or that  _ Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory  _ is the childhood equivalent of a  _ Saw _ movie. That was what got them started, really.

“If you could pick anyone you wanted to hook up with  _ once,  _ who would it be?” This was Yuta’s question, naturally.

“You.”

“That’s not an answer! We’ve been dating for ages, which makes it  _ not _ a hook-up.” Yuta corrected— Doyoung’s eyes were closed while his boyfriend massaged shampoo into his hair, but he could still hear the smile in his voice. “Haven’t you ever considered it? Like a hypothetical list? Assuming you had my full, unconditional support?”

“A  _ list, _ now? That changes things, if I don’t need to narrow it down to  _ one,” _ Doyoung decided with confidence. “We’re surrounded by hot guys at all times. Sure, I’ve thought about it— but I always think about it more in terms of guys I would potentially want to have a threesome with. I don’t think I’d want to be with another person by myself.”

“Oh?”  _ This _ certainly piqued Yuta’s interest. “Even better. Now I  _ definitely _ want to hear them.”

Doyoung turned to rinse his hair beneath the spray of the water— letting Yuta wonder for a few more moments, he thought deviously. (Yuta was one of his favorite people to tease, and he knew where all of his boyfriend’s most satisfying buttons were. Yuta  _ hated _ needlessly waiting.) “I’m not giving away all my secrets! For every person I say, you have to tell me one of yours.”

“Oh, easy. I’ll even start.” Yuta didn’t have a hint of shame on his face, didn’t even seem to think twice about his selection: “Jungkook from BTS.”

_ “What?” _

“I don’t have to explain myself!” Yuta replied defensively, with the tiniest of natural pouts that made Doyoung grin even more. “Though if you must know, my preference is for guys who have ‘pin me against the wall and do whatever you want to me’ vibes.”

“Every time we have one of these talks, you surprise me, you know that?” Doyoung chuckled, letting himself relax under the spray for a few more indulgent moments while he thought about where to start himself off. “Mmm… BM from KARD? I mean, I usually prefer guys with your body type, but he looks like he could pick me up with one arm, and that’s kind of hot.”

Yuta laughed in disbelief. “I can’t believe you have the nerve to  _ what _ me about Jungkook, and then drop this bomb on me!” His tone was almost scolding, but then as he turned off the water, he conceded, “I hadn’t thought about him before. Not my type, but I can admit that he’s hot as hell. Honestly, if he ever approaches us for a threesome—”

“Oh,  _ come on.” _

“Anything is possible. I nabbed  _ one _ boy band cutie pie, the sky’s the limit now.”

Doyoung sighed. Sometimes, Yuta could be so romantic and so embarrassing, all in the same breath. It was at least good enough to earn a kiss while Doyoung threw his oversized towel around them both. “All right, horndog. Who else?”

“Jihoon from Wanna One?”

“Your tastes are so  _ pretty.  _ How about Jay Park?”

Back and forth they went, seldom agreeing in their choices: their taste in men was completely different, which was to be expected, when Doyoung thought about it. He’d been pulled in by Yuta’s masculine bluntness, all of his rough edges, while Yuta admitted that it was all of the softest parts of Doyoung that he admired the most. (Doyoung had nearly called him a pervert, until Yuta specified that Doyoung’s eyes were his favorite of those soft parts, which promptly made him blush like a schoolgirl and hide his face in his bathrobe sleeves.)

“How about Jongin sunbae?” Yuta suddenly piped up, running his hairbrush through his hair before passing it off to Doyoung.

“Don’t you feel weird picking someone we know?” Doyoung asked incredulously. Not like they knew Kim Jongin all that  _ well,  _ but he  _ was _ in a supergroup with two of their teammates. He’d even been by their dorm a time or two.

“Not like he’s here to hear me. Besides, he’s  _ fucking _ hot, and if you try to say otherwise, you’re a liar.”

That was an eye-opener for Doyoung. Perhaps naive of him, but he hadn’t even considered the idols in his own company, and the fact that they spent every day surrounded by  _ extremely attractive  _ men. “Fair. Does that mean anyone is within limits, then?” He frowned, keeping his eyes on the reflection in the foggy mirror as he suggested shyly, “How about Taeyong hyung, then?”

“What?” There was no jest in Yuta’s voice, just pure surprise. The reaction made Doyoung’s heart flare with nervous energy— he hoped that that wasn’t the wrong thing to say. “Really?”

“I mean— not unless you were okay with it. Obviously.” Doyoung bit his bottom lip.

“I’m not mad!” Yuta’s arm wrapped around his waist from behind, and he pressed a kiss to Doyoung’s bare neck. “Really, I just figured Johnny would be more your type…”

“I don’t think I can ever see Johnny naked again without remembering the time that I walked in on him eating Taeil’s ass. You  _ know _ how much that traumatized me.” Doyoung shook his head quickly— he didn’t want to dwell on it. “Taeyong hyung is just really good looking, and he’s one of my best friends, so I kind of feel like he would take good care of me. I just—”

_ “Hey!” _ Jungwoo’s sharp voice came along with a heavy tap on the door. “Quit dirtying up the bathroom, freaks! Me and Jaehyun still need it!”

“It’s a shower! Everything just runs down the drain, relax!” Yuta called out before Doyoung could come up with anything snappy to say. He smiled gratefully, nudging Yuta for one more kiss before they opened the door, and he was relieved to find that nothing had changed about it.

Nothing changed whatsoever, not until later that night, when Doyoung got a text from Taehyung that nearly made his heart skip a beat:  _ “Hopefully not going to regret asking this… but a little birdie told me that you and Yuta were talking about sleeping with me this morning in the bathroom. Is that a secret, or do I get to hear about it too?” _

//

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Are you sure  _ you’re  _ okay with this?” Doyoung countered, more to take the attention off of himself than anything. He was already trembling, and he could tell that Yuta had noticed. Anticipation was starting to kill him, lately. Maybe that had rubbed off from Yuta. He couldn’t take it, being naked and not touched made him antsy.

“Love, I’m  _ more _ than okay with this. I mean, you’re mine, but I don’t  _ own _ you.” Funny that he said this just as he was fastening Doyoung’s collar around his throat. He was already stripped down to nothing, but he didn’t feel  _ truly _ naked and vulnerable until the leather clicked into place. “I fully support you exploring your sexuality with other people. Besides… I think it’ll be kind of hot, getting to watch you with another guy. I just want to make sure you’re not having any second thoughts.”

“Not at all!” Doyoung tugged Yuta close, pressing his bare body against Yuta’s still-clothed one and kissing him sweetly. “Let’s be real, though— you  _ do _ own me, and I love you for it. This thing that we have, I couldn’t imagine sharing it with anyone else. I kind of can’t imagine  _ myself  _ without it anymore.” As always, there was the little twinge of nerves that came with opening himself up completely. But then there was the reminder that feeling nervous around Yuta was completely unnecessary, in the form of his boyfriend’s arm wrapping snug around his waist.

Whatever happened with any other man, it couldn’t touch this. Yuta made him feel so cherished, so protected, so precious and pleasantly  _ small. _ He treasured the feeling for a few perfect moments before a soft knock sounded on the door. “You can come in,” Yuta called out, and when he addressed Doyoung again, it was with that edge of command that made him weak. “Get on your knees.”

And so that was how Taeyong stepped into the room and found Doyoung: on his knees, naked but for the collar, and his dick already hard without any effort, twitching with the desire for friction. Immediately, he shut the door and leaned back against it, raising his hands to cover the grin on his face.

Mere seconds in, and Doyoung was already tempted into breaking character: “Quit laughing at me, Lee Taeyong!”

“I’m not trying to laugh at you! You  _ know _ I laugh when I’m nervous!”

Even Yuta couldn’t keep from laughing at the two of them, but he managed to keep his voice mostly even as he spoke, fingers running through Doyoung’s soft black hair to get his attention. “I want you to obey Taeyong as though he were me. Show him what a good little slut I’ve taught you to be… you remember your safe words, right?”

Doyoung nodded, finding it surprisingly easy to get back into the correct headspace with Yuta speaking to him. “‘Yellow’ to slow down. ‘Red’ to stop the scene.” He looked up at Taeyong a bit more coyly this time, grinning as he added, “I’m pretty sure I can take anything you can dish out, though. Don’t be shy.”

When Taeyong stepped in front of him, he placed his hand uncertainly atop Doyoung’s hair, not yet comfortable to give him a command the way that Yuta would. Still, Doyoung knew just what to do— his deft fingers wasted no time in unzipping Taeyong’s pants, tugging them down his thighs and giving his hyung a few teasing kisses through the cloth of his underwear.

“Is it weird if I ask you to kiss me? Is that off the table? Emotional entanglement and all that?”

“Taeyong hyung, that’s  _ prostitutes.  _ You’re thinking of  _ prostitutes.” _ Doyoung rolled his eyes, managing to keep himself from grinning as he stood up and gave Taeyong a kiss on the mouth anyway.  _ This _ was less awkward: Taeyong was an excellent kisser, and kissing gave him the courage to touch. His fingertips traveled slowly down the length of Doyoung’s neck, over his shoulders, his hips, the curve of his ass. He touched differently than Yuta, tentative with the novelty of learning a brand new body but seeming to revel in every detail. When Doyoung pulled back, he was breathless, and he couldn’t resist running a couple fingers over the tent in Taeyong’s boxers. “Bigger than I thought… I bet I can still swallow it, though.”

Taeyong’s hands still lingered on Doyoung’s butt, his touch feather-light, like he was scared to offend him by grabbing him too crassly— Doyoung had known that Taeyong was more shy than he let on, but he was unprepared for just how  _ cute  _ that would be. “I didn’t think that you’d be so…” He hesitated for half a second. “...bold.”

“You can say slutty. It’s okay.” Doyoung smirked, leaning back in to kiss Taeyong once more; the sensation of lips on his own neck made him gasp into Taeyong’s mouth, but when Yuta’s chest pressed against his bare back, he shivered in delight. Taeyong’s lips fell on the other side of his neck, giving him goosebumps, and he whined as he ground his hips against the bulge in Taeyong’s underwear.

“Hyung, I want more,  _ please…” _ The statement was mostly addressed to Yuta, who only chuckled in response, nipping harshly at Doyoung’s shoulder and keeping his hands at his submissive’s waist.  _ Infuriatingly  _ far from where he needed them.

Instead, it was Taeyong who answered— now bold enough to slide his hands up Doyoung’s chest, running his thumbs over each pert nipple and earning a soft hum of pleasure. “More what?”

_ “Everything.” _ Doyoung gyrated his hips impatiently again, hungry for friction. “No teasing, just…  _ take me.” _ Even when Taeyong’s cheeks went pink, Doyoung was clear-headed, driven by his desire: “Take me and fuck me  _ hard. _ I don’t care which of you does it.”

“I guess he’s leaving us no choice, Yuta,” Taeyong spoke up in amusement, voice tentatively authoritative as he ordered, “On the bed, on your hands and knees. You keep bragging about that mouth, so I want you to show me…”

Doyoung was glad to, and his impatience made him move quickly, getting situated while Taeyong finally slipped off his clothes. Doyoung had seen Taeyong naked  _ countless _ times over the years (the simple reality of living together for so long), but he had never seen him  _ hard _ before. Indeed, he was well-endowed, not quite as thick as Yuta’s but a bit longer, and it was impossible not to stare— at least, until he got his lips wrapped around it, that was. He tried to move slowly despite his own impatience, focusing his attention on pleasing him with slow circles of his tongue around Taeyong’s cock head.

Doyoung had been a bit nervous to be with someone new: after all, he’d only ever been with Yuta, and Yuta was very vocal about what he wanted in bed. Taeyong was shy, but much to Doyoung’s delight, his wordless moans and fingers gripping Doyoung’s hair had to mean he was doing something right. While he focused on taking more of Taeyong with each bob of his head, he tensed in surprise at Yuta’s finger, slipping between his ass cheeks and smearing cold lube on his puckered, waiting hole. Two fingers slipped in easily now, and three made him instantly moan around the dick in his mouth, but they still didn’t fill him in the perfectly satisfying way that Yuta’s cock did.

“Making a mess already,” Yuta observed lightly, giving Doyoung’s neglected cock a few pumps with his opposite hand and making him suddenly aware of the pre-cum dripping onto the sheets. “You’re thinking about Taeyong’s cock up your ass, aren’t you?” He wiped his messy fingers carelessly across Doyoung’s ass cheek, making him shiver. Normally, Yuta would never allow for a non-verbal answer, but with Taeyong filling his mouth, he could only hum his assent, eyes rolling back and thighs shaking as Yuta angled his wrist  _ just _ right.

“You really want me to?” Taeyong’s voice was husky with desire, and he gave Doyoung’s hair a harsh tug back so that he could answer. With perfect timing, Yuta’s fingers kept up their assault right where Doyoung needed them, punctuating his submissive’s response with gasps and moans of surprise.

“Mm… Y-yes— oh! Yes, Sir…”

Taeyong’s finger hooked delicately under his chin, thumb tenderly wiping away the dribble of saliva left behind on Doyoung’s bottom lip. Doyoung met his gaze easily, no shame, just adoration. “Get on your back and spread your legs for me, then, slut.”

Doyoung was so tremulous that it was nearly difficult to obey— when he got situated on his back, he could see Yuta fumbling with his belt and zipper above him, and he opened his mouth and closed his eyes without waiting to be told.

“Sure you’re ready?” Yuta asked quietly, just as Doyoung felt Taeyong spreading his ass cheeks, running his thumb over his waiting hole. His own response was wordless, nothing but a soft sigh of impatient approval, delirious with anticipation as Taeyong knelt on the mattress; then there was the familiar feeling of something much bigger than Yuta’s fingers pressing into him, the pleasant burn followed by a wave of pleasure that made him arch his back sharply.

_ “Fuck,  _ you’re so tight…” Taeyong gripped Doyoung’s hips tightly as he adjusted, breathing ragged. It gave Doyoung a moment to focus on fitting his mouth comfortably around Yuta— the angle of his head making it easy to swallow his length with every thrust while Yuta pinned his arms firmly to the mattress.

Having two cocks inside of him and four hands touching him was overwhelming for a second— it was amazing, just how many sensations and emotions he was able to feel at once. Greedy for pleasure but unable to help himself along with Yuta’s fingers wrapped around his wrists, he was instead at the mercy of  _ Taeyong’s  _ touch, which seemed content to run over  _ every  _ other part of his body before his cock. His pace was quick, and he was every bit as good as Doyoung had expected a dancer like him to be— and when his fingers finally reached Doyoung’s cock, slick with his own fluids, the younger man’s hips snapped up to meet the touch eagerly.

Still, when Yuta freed Doyoung’s mouth so that he could catch his breath, he took the opportunity to plead for something unorthodox: “I-I— I’m gonna cum if you keep it up— a-and I want to make this last…”

Taeyong laughed breathlessly. “For the person who was so impatient before—”

“I want  _ this part _ to last, though!” A high-pitched whine nearly cut Doyoung off as Taeyong followed his suggestion, thrusts becoming slow but deep, and his trembling hands squeezed Yuta’s as he opened his mouth for him once more.

For a top, Taeyong followed directions impeccably. He seemed to be able to read Doyoung by the sounds that came from his lips: to speed up when he needed it, to slow down when he was getting close to the edge. Even so, Doyoung was the first of the three to cum in the end, groaning around Yuta’s cock and squeezing the bedsheets into his fists as he exploded all over his own stomach. The sight of the semen pooling on his abs seemed to inspire Taeyong, who pulled out and wrapped his desperate fingers around his own cock, pumping until he splattered his own seed across Doyoung’s messy body. It mingled with his own on his stomach, dripped down his pale thighs.

“Holy shit, you  _ guys—”  _ It was hard to tell if Yuta was amused or impressed - probably a little bit of both - but before Doyoung could ponder, his master’s cock was pulled from his mouth with a wet  _ pop. _ “Close your eyes,” he ordered gruffly, and Doyoung obeyed with a thrill of excitement before a thick spurt of cum hit him in the cheek. A big load as usual, which barely felt hot compared to the firey blush brewing underneath— this was a new sort of degradation that he’d never felt before, but it felt  _ good. _

Especially when Yuta leaned down to kiss his messy lips without hesitation, wiping his eyes clear with a delicacy that hadn’t been there a moment ago. It made Doyoung feel strangely beautiful, even with a face full of cum. “Kiss me again,” he ordered, fuzzy-headed enough to give orders— and of course, Yuta did.

“You were  _ amazing,  _ kitten. Stay here— I’m going to get a towel so you can clean yourself up. Water, too?”

“Please.” Doyoung was still breathless while Yuta made himself presentable enough to leave the room, breathless but content. Especially when Taeyong slipped into the wet sheets beside him, seeming shy all over again as he kissed Doyoung’s shoulder. Doyoung closed his eyes, letting his still-racing heart quiet before trying to break the silence.

“This isn’t weird, now, right?” Taeyong spoke up first, tentatively. It was the last question Doyoung expected, and it nearly made him laugh.

“I mean, it feels different. But not in a bad way. I actually feel like we’re closer now, to be honest,” Doyoung determined, suddenly feeling a little shy himself as he peeked over at Taeyong. Maybe it was just the endorphins flooding his brain, but Doyoung thought he looked more handsome than ever, skin glistening with perspiration in the dim bedroom lighting.

And almost as if he could read the thought in Doyoung’s head, Taeyong leaned in without a word and kissed his lips, as if oblivious to Yuta’s cum all over him. Something about it felt so profoundly pure— while simultaneously cementing itself as one of the single hottest kisses of his  _ life,  _ with the taste of his lover’s essence faint between their dancing tongues.

_ Different, but not in a bad way. _ That just about summed it up. Yuta’s fingers running through his hair when he returned ignited sparks inside Doyoung’s chest. Taeyong taking Yuta’s wet cloth to clean the mess off his face ignited sparks inside him, too. Once the worst of it was taken care of, Yuta and Taeyong lay on either side of him, and it was all the usual after-sex banter— except now there was Taeyong to tease Doyoung, and Doyoung could whine and try to kick Taeyong out of bed in return, until Yuta wrapped him up in his arms and legs and let Taeyong smother him back into compliance with kisses.

Something about it felt perfect, which was strange, because Doyoung  _ already felt  _ like he and Yuta were perfect to begin with. It was scary and beautiful and amazing, all at once, and Doyoung thought about asking Yuta if he felt it too— but then he got up to shower and Yuta rolled into his spot, giving Taeyong a kiss on the cheek, and Doyoung figured he didn’t need to ask.

There had been a time that change had frightened Doyoung, or at least made him uneasy. That was before he had a constant like Yuta in his life— and when he woke up alone with Yuta the next morning and wrapped his arms around those strong shoulders, they felt the same, exactly the same. No matter what changed, Yuta wasn’t going to drift away, and that gave him all the confidence in the world.

//

NCT rarely got days off, let alone a  _ substantial _ break— but a long run of promotions had them all exhausted, and in Doyoung’s opinion, they were long overdue for the week off they were finally awarded. A full week off meant that Yuta had time to go home, which was a rarity… and this time, for the  _ first  _ time, Doyoung accompanied him.

It was nerve wracking, to say in the least. Doyoung had met Yuta’s parents briefly before, but this was his first time meeting them as their son’s boyfriend, and he couldn’t help but be terrified of all the worst case scenarios. Luckily, they seemed to like him, evidenced by the way that Yuta’s mother spoiled him for the entirety of their stay.

The only  _ downside  _ to the trip - and Doyoung hated to think of it this way - was that when they’d arrived from the airport, Yuta’s mother had shown him to the guest room, and Yuta didn’t dare to suggest differently. Normally, when their schedules were too packed for free time, going a week without sex was bearable— but in this case, on vacation, with very few distractions from each other, it was nothing short of excruciating. In public, the constant possibility of nearby fans kept them well-behaved; in private, the thin walls were their adversaries. Doyoung didn’t even want to Yuta’s parents to catch them kissing— surely, they had to know that it was happening, but it was too embarrassing for Doyoung to even think about. Sneaking into Yuta’s room at night never crossed his mind; instead, he had to settle for texting his boyfriend from the other end of the house and pouting.

_Yuta hyung_ 💘  
➭ _i’m sorry if this is a boring trip_ _  
_➭ _i would be sleeping right beside you if i had my way… my parents are cool but not THAT cool_

➭  _ Never! I’m having fun! ^^ I like getting to see the area where you grew up, all the places you used to go. _ _   
_ ➭  _ And listen, I went 24 years without cuddling you before we started dating, I will survive an additional week. _

_Yuta hyung_ 💘  
➭ _ah, that makes me feel better_ 💕  
➭ _well fyi can’t wait to get back to korea and jump your bones_

➭  _ I mean, same… _

Despite it all, on their second-to-last day of vacation, Yuta surprised Doyoung at breakfast by informing his parents casually that they were going to fly back that afternoon, one day earlier than planned. “We have rehearsal early on Monday morning! I completely forgot! I’ll be a wreck if we don’t have a little time to settle back into the dorm. Flying makes me so tired.”

Doyoung nodded quickly, as though Yuta had already run this plan by him— though he was certain he already knew his boyfriend’s thoughts, and the text he found waiting on his phone after breakfast only confirmed it.

_Yuta hyung_ 💘 _  
_➭ _also, mark is drinking with the dreamies tonight, and johnny is still crashing with taeil’s family, so the dorm is all ours when we get back_ 😊 _if you have ideas of how we could possibly pass the time alone…_

If not for Yuta’s mother still in the room, tidying up from breakfast, Doyoung would have kissed him (and possibly some other things too), but instead all he could do was answer in the softest, sweetest Korean that he knew everyone but Yuta would tune out:  _ “You know I do, hyung. Nothing but ideas.” _

//

And from that moment on, Doyoung’s mind did nothing but churn out  _ ideas. _ The plane ride back, short as it was, was torture. Yuta was composed as ever, even falling asleep against Doyoung’s shoulder— but little things were driving Doyoung too crazy to let him relax. They were little things inside his own head, of course, but he could blame nobody but Yuta for putting them there.

Yuta’s lips, the way they always lingered just where Doyoung needed them (Yuta seemed to have memorized all of Doyoung’s most sensitive areas months ago). His voice, or more specifically, the bubbling excitement that burned in Doyoung’s stomach when his voice took on that familiar note of command. His weight as he straddled Doyoung’s hips, the gentle but authoritative way that he pinned him down, demanding submission. The hunger that Doyoung felt— it wasn’t just for sex, it was for that unique feeling of  _ belonging _ to the person he loved, in whatever way that Yuta would have him.

Maybe he didn’t just want it, maybe he  _ needed  _ it. To be taken,  _ completely _ taken. To be Yuta’s most precious and beloved possession.

Whatever it was, it came so naturally: dragging their luggage through the front door and taking off their shoes almost seemed to take too long, and given the golden opportunity of a completely empty dorm, waiting until they got to the bedroom seemed like a waste of time, too. Instead, Yuta found it fit to simply press him against the living room wall: one hand capturing his delicate wrists above his head, the other coming firmly but lovingly to his throat as he kissed him. Their hips pressed together, and Doyoung gasped into Yuta’s mouth; his body moved automatically, seeking out friction and groaning shamelessly when he found it.

“Look how hard you are already… didn’t take very much teasing, did it, slut?” Yuta’s fingers left his neck, dancing teasingly down his chest and stomach to brush against the bulge forming in his pants. Doyoung moaned as Yuta popped the button open, relieving some of the tightness and rubbing him through his boxers to get him warmed up. “You want me to take you right here? Maybe bent over the back of the couch?”

_ “Fuck…”  _ The curse was instinctive, leaving Doyoung’s mouth as a breathy plea, since he didn’t have much leeway to do anything else. It was mind-blowing, that something could make him feel so helpless and so powerful, all in one swing. “Please, Master…”

Yuta smirked into the kiss, giving Doyoung’s bottom lip a lustful bite as his thumb played in coy circles around the head of Doyoung’s cock, spreading his pre-cum like lube. “Please  _ what, _ kitten? Beg properly, or I won’t know what you’re begging for.”

Doyoung had gotten  _ very _ good at begging since they’d started, but even so, a request like this called for a moment’s hesitation. Yuta was always so good to him, so absolutely careful, even when he was playing cruel. With that in mind, it almost seemed unfair to ask this of him, but…

“I want— I want you to choke me.” He took Yuta’s wrist tentatively— as always, he felt a little self-conscious about taking the lead, but Yuta offered no resistance as Doyoung brought his hand back up to his neck. “Please?”

Yuta certainly seemed taken aback, but not put off; his fingers wrapped once more around Doyoung’s neck, holding his boyfriend’s gaze as he gave a light, experimental squeeze. Just a small amount of pressure was all it took to get Doyoung’s heart racing in his ears, and he gasped when Yuta’s grip slackened just a moment later. “Are you sure this is something you want?” He ran his thumb lovingly over Doyoung’s fluttering pulse point.

“Positive.” Speaking felt like such an  _ effort _ when Doyoung simply wanted to surrender himself. “If it doesn’t scare you too much. But I mean— it doesn’t scare me. I trust you.”

“I mean, it scares me a little bit. Just because you trust me doesn’t mean that things couldn’t go wrong.” Yuta bit the inside of his cheek, seeming to consider for a moment, before assuming the commanding tone that gave Doyoung such a thrill: “Take off your clothes and go to the couch. I don’t want to do it unless you’re laying down, just in case… but we can’t give up this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to fuck in the living room, we just  _ can’t.” _ The moment Yuta’s hands released him, Doyoung hurried to obey— he was anxiously excited, heart pounding and stomach flipping, the way he might feel while waiting in line for a roller coaster. The anticipation had him soaring, and as Yuta’s words sat with him, digesting in his brain, he realized that this was a show of trust that went both ways.

When Yuta pushed Doyoung back into the couch cushions and straddled him, he took Doyoung’s hand and pressed something into his palm: his collar, he realized, retrieved from his luggage. He hadn’t worn it at all in Japan, but he found himself taking it everywhere as an item of comfort. Instinctively, he clutched it tight between his fingers as Yuta explained: “I’ll still listen for your safeword, but if you can’t talk, open your hand and let this fall to the floor, and I’ll stop everything. Of course, you’ll drop it if you lose consciousness, but I’m not trying to choke you out. It scared me bad enough when you passed out the last time…”

“Aww.  _ I _ had fun.” Granted, Doyoung didn’t remember passing out, only the massive orgasm that had made it happen. He clutched the collar obediently anyway, determined to make Yuta feel secure in what he was about to do.

“Yeah, but you didn’t have to watch it happen!” Yuta rolled his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips as his hand slipped so naturally around Doyoung’s throat again. “What’s with the talking back lately? Almost as if you’ve forgotten who’s in charge.”

“Remind me,  _ Yuta.” _ Doyoung grinned. No Master, not even a  _ hyung. This _ time, the sudden squeeze felt almost instinctive— just for a couple seconds, but it still took his breath away, leaving him glassy-eyed and panting. His long-forgotten cock lay hard against his stomach, drooling pre-cum, but he kept his hands obediently where they could be seen. He knew by now— when Yuta was ready to let him have his pleasure, he would make it well worth his wait.

“Gladly, slut.”

The loss of Yuta’s grip a moment later made Doyoung whimper softly, but hearing the tell-tale  _ click _ of the lube bottle opening kept him quiet— after all, it had been some time since they’d done this, and Doyoung would need to be stretched out all over again. Impatience squashed the brat inside him and made him spread his legs obediently, eager to take whatever Yuta would give him. He took two fingers with little difficulty, gritting his teeth against the initial discomfort, but then his head falling back and a low groan escaping his throat when he began to pump them quickly in and out. He arched his back, instinctively trying to find that perfect angle, only to cry out and curl his fingers into the couch’s leather upholstery when he finally got it.

“O-oh my  _ god—  _ ahh, harder,  _ please—” _ The words left his lips on pure instinct (begging was  _ always _ rewarded), but mid-word, Yuta’s hand fell back into place, and he was cut off by his own gasp of delight. It wasn’t lack of air that made him dizzy and delirious, but instead Yuta’s fingers pressing on the sides of his neck for just a few seconds at a time, always backing off when Doyoung’s vision started to go fuzzy.

Doyoung’s world was swimming; pleasure and pain, excitement that really should have been fear, and the looming promise of an orgasm that seemed closest whenever Yuta’s hand clamped down. Nothing else existed, just himself and Yuta and this feeling that he wanted to chase forever. The only thing he afforded conscious thought was holding onto the collar in his hand. Everything else was automatic— his legs wrapping around Yuta’s waist when his two fingers were replaced by his much thicker cock, his hips moving in perfect sync with Yuta’s thrusts, all directed by the endorphins flooding his brain and making him need  _ more. _

Doyoung barely remembered Yuta’s voice in his ear, asking him if he was close; the hot and sticky sensation of being filled with cum didn’t register with him, either. What he remembered, out of everything, was a soft kiss on the lips as Yuta’s grip tightened on his throat again, followed by the euphoric onset of the longest, most intense orgasm he’d ever had. It started between his legs but seemed to overtake every last nerve ending— tensing him everywhere, making his fingers and toes curl tight. It seemed to go on for ages, almost to the point of overstimulation, but he wasn’t about to give up a second of it by stopping.

When his brain finally caught up with his body, his throat was sore from a scream he didn’t remember letting out, and he was surprised to feel tears streaming from his eyes. He still felt dazed, almost  _ high, _ and he was thankful for Yuta holding him tight, kissing him everywhere, keeping him grounded. Speaking was  _ far _ too much effort, but to reassure Yuta that he was okay  _ (beyond  _ okay, really) he managed a single breathless word as he clutched onto him:  _ “Master.” _

“I take it I did a good job? You look like you’ve just had a religious experience,” Yuta teased quietly, running his fingers through Doyoung’s sweat-drenched hair. “What do you need, babe? Water?”

“Just you.” Doyoung clung stubbornly to Yuta, burying his face in his shoulder and breathing him in. Yuta, unsurprisingly, didn’t argue.

Doyoung was eventually lured into letting Yuta move with the prospect of a hot bath— Yuta ran the water for him and even lit candles in the bathroom for ambience before carrying Doyoung to the tub. While he cleaned himself up, Yuta took care of the mess in the living room and ordered takeout for dinner. Extras of everything, too, knowing that Doyoung was always ravenous after sex.

Doyoung couldn’t remember ever being so comfortable as he was afterwards, wearing nothing but Yuta’s bathrobe and snuggling up to him in front of the TV. Without anyone else around, they could kiss freely, feed each other without being teased— and talk about the things that they never found time to talk about otherwise.

“This is nice, isn’t it? I wish it could be forever.”

Yuta laughed. “What, you mean just the two of us here?” he asked, setting aside the empty takeout container he was holding so that he could pull Doyoung properly into his lap. “I didn’t want to say anything because it felt mean— but yeah. Kind of wish we could have one more night of peace before everyone else comes back, but that’s mostly because I’m a selfish, selfish hedonist.”

“Well, I guess that makes me one, too!” Doyoung smiled faintly, looking down at his phone to hide the fact that he was starting to blush. Still, Yuta always noticed these things, and he caught the apple of Doyoung’s cheek in a teasing pinch.

“You’re thinking about something dirty, aren’t you?”

“I’m not  _ always _ thinking about something dirty,” Doyoung shot back with a pout. “I was going to say… I think I’m ready to move out of the dorms. And it might mean that we have to answer to the fans and the company, but I want to live somewhere with  _ you.” _

Yuta’s eyebrows raised in surprise, and Doyoung was sure he wasn’t imagining his little blush— but as usual, he managed to play it cool. “Yeah? That would be nice. We could always come back and stay here during promotions, but… having a little place that just belongs to you and me? That would be perfect.”

“You and me. And  _ cats,” _ Doyoung amended, giving Yuta’s shoulders a squeeze. “And— I don’t know. Maybe a family, once we’ve settled down and retired from the idol life. Would you want that?”

It was hard to know how Yuta would take the suggestion. But Doyoung didn’t feel him tense, didn’t see him lose any of his comfortable ease as he hugged him back. “I’m open to it. Feels crazy to say out loud, though, doesn’t it?” He laughed, pressing his nose affectionately against Doyoung’s cheek as he whispered, “If someone had told me, that first night I kissed you, that we’d be talking about a house and kids less than three years later… I never would have believed it, but it really doesn’t feel too fast. It’s actually exciting. You make me want things I never thought I would.”

“Yeah? I could say the same about you,” Doyoung teased, but only to cover up how flustered the notion made him. “But— one step at a time. I want to live together first, see what it’s like with just the two of us. I think it’ll be great!”

“I think we’ll have to soundproof the bedroom, or else our neighbors will figure out pretty quickly that we’re not just roommates.”

Point taken. One step at a time, Doyoung figured, and everything would fall naturally into place.

//

When NCT 127 had gone on their first tour, Doyoung thought of them like sprints: he’d put his all into the performances, ignoring exhaustion, dancing through injuries, pasting a smile on his face like he hadn’t already performed this set five different times in five different cities just this week.

This tour had a different energy, though. They were touring Europe, which was a lot of flying, a lot of different countries and languages, a lot to keep track of and remember. It was exhausting, but the sense of camaraderie he felt with his bandmates sort of reminded him of the debut era days. It was bittersweet— mainly because three days after they were set to return to Korea, he and Yuta would be receiving the keys to their new apartment. Of course, he’d still be seeing his bandmates  _ far _ more often than most people were forced to see their coworkers, but it would be a massive change, and that made him anxious all on its own.

That was part of why, when they finally had a night off in Berlin, Doyoung was happy to throw caution to the wind and accompany the group out for drinks. It wasn’t like him to spend much time at the bar, especially when he could have spent the evening recuperating, but this tour felt special.

Doyoung was about as tipsy as he tended to get when they made their way back to the hotel— he’d had two beers, and his head felt bubbly and light, his worries disappeared for the moment. While members slipped out of the van and divided up to return to their rooms and catch up on sleep, Taeyong tugged on Doyoung’s sleeve from behind: “If you guys aren’t too tired yet, Johnny and Taeil have a bottle of wine in their room! Come meet us for a nightcap!”

Doyoung smiled, tempted to say yes. Truthfully, he felt closer with Taeyong after all that had happened, and it was easy to tell that Yuta felt the same way (after all, Yuta was once again wearing the hoodie that Doyoung had stolen from Taeyong for  _ himself). _ In fact, that was more of a surprise to him than their discussion about starting a family: three years ago, he  _ never _ would have imagined himself  _ and his boyfriend _ courting a  _ third _ man. But as Yuta had reminded him: idol life was rough, they needed to find happiness where they could.  _ Functional  _ hedonism. If that meant he could be romanced by not one but  _ two _ gorgeous men, Doyoung approved.

“We might,” Yuta broke in quietly, holding onto Doyoung’s arm and giving it a little tug. “I wanna stop by our room first. If I’m drinking wine, it’s going to be in sweatpants, the way nature intended.”

Doyoung suppressed his smirk the best he could, fishing their key card out of his pocket. “We’ll be there in ten,” he promised, waving Taeyong off. Once the hotel room door was closed behind him, he giggled softly, wrapping his arms around Yuta’s neck for a kiss. “You’re not that sneaky, you know. Ah, I should have said twenty minutes… ten is enough for a blowjob, though, at least…”

Yuta chuckled; his hands bypassed Doyoung’s thighs, his ass, his toned stomach and chest, all the way up to cup his cheeks and give him another kiss in return. “Actually, it might surprise you, but I  _ wasn’t  _ trying to buy us time for a quickie. I just wanted to get you alone for a minute… to show you something.”

“Oh? What kind of something?” Yuta didn’t sound upset, so Doyoung didn’t think it was bad news, but the mystery of it still made his stomach tighten a little.

“Something that I was going to save until the day that we move, but… I don’t know. I’m impatient. I want to give it to you tonight. Especially after seeing you wear  _ this _ out.” Much to Doyoung’s surprise, Yuta fingered the leather collar that he wore around his throat, and Doyoung scoffed.

“What do you mean? You say it like it’s a bad thing! I told you why I like to wear it. It reminds me of you, hyung.”

“Yeah, but it was cheap! It’s not even real leather!”

“Yeah, but I’m not wearing it because I think it’s  _ expensive.” _ Doyoung rolled his eyes, though Yuta missed it— he’d broken away from Doyoung to sit on the bed, reaching into the duffel bag he’d been using as carry-on luggage.

Then it hit him, suddenly, what was about to happen. Nervously, he reached up to fiddle with the tag on his collar, unable to keep still. “Hyung—”

“Come here.”

Doyoung walked over slowly and perched himself beside Yuta, trying not to let his nerves show. His usually fidgety hands were clasped together to keep them still; on the other hand, it did not go unnoticed to him how Yuta’s hands shook a little as he opened the small black box that he’d retrieved. The immediate glint of silver made Doyoung’s stomach do flip-flops, and he could barely bring himself to  _ blink, _ not wanting to miss a single detail of the moment.

The absolute delicacy with which Yuta took his hand. The cool drag of metal across his skin, a thin chain wound carefully around his thin wrist. Of course, in his own eyes, the visual evoked bondage, sex and pleasure, but to the uninitiated it was nothing but a simple, unadorned silver bracelet. The focal point was the charm at the clasp, which was shaped like a heart; it took Yuta a moment of fiddling to latch it, and to Doyoung’s surprise, a small key pressed into the hole and twisted with a firm  _ click. _ It was nothing like the bulky, obvious padlock that he typically saw on submissive collars and cuffs, but rather a discreet screwing mechanism. Still, it felt secure, loose enough to remain comfortable but not enough slack to simply slide over his hand.

The implication suddenly made Doyoung’s throat go tight with the threat of tears, and he was left speechless.

“I hope this isn’t too much,” Yuta volunteered after a moment, seeming uncharacteristically shy; he glanced up and caught Doyoung’s eyes for just a second, before they flickered nervously back down to his hands. “But you deserve better than some cheap costume collar. I want you to be mine, and I want to prove my love to you in the way that you deserve. But— I mean, obviously, I can return it if it’s not something you’re into… I thought this would be discreet enough to hide from the fans.”

“Return it?” Doyoung repeated quickly, finding his voice as he took Yuta’s hands. “You wouldn’t  _ dare. _ Master, I  _ love  _ it, and I hope you know I’m  _ never _ going to take it off.” His laugh quivered embarrassingly, betraying how close to crying he was, and he let go of Yuta’s hands only to dab at his eyes with his shirt sleeves. Instantly, as if by instinct, Yuta pulled Doyoung to his chest and folded him up in his arms, in the kind of fierce, tight hug that Doyoung loved more than anything else. “And if the fans figure it out somehow— fuck it. I don’t care anymore, I love you too much to keep it a secret forever. I’ll tell them that someone very special to me gave it to me, and that they’d better get used to seeing me with it on.”

“Good. Then I’ll never go anywhere without the key,” Yuta decided between kisses, showering the top of Doyoung’s head with his lips. “And if I can help it, I’ll never go anywhere without you, either. I love you, Dongyoung. I feel like the luckiest person alive, to be able to call you mine.”

Doyoung sniffled, pressing his face into Yuta’s shoulder. Sex was the furthest thing from his mind; not even kissing seemed important. Just letting that moment linger, taking in the feeling of Yuta’s strong arms protecting him from the world, that was all he needed. “You should text Taeyong hyung and tell him ten more minutes,” Doyoung whispered through his tears, hiccuping as he giggled.

_ “Ugh,” _ Yuta grumbled, with an edge of dry humor: “How much you want a bet he’s going to assume you’re sucking my dick?”

“Let him assume! It’ll only mean he’s jealous of us,” Doyoung retorted smartly. “I just want a few more minutes. A few more minutes with the person I’m going to spend the rest of my life with.”

“I love how much faith you have in us. It makes me feel less crazy for thinking the exact same thing.”

Yuta’s fingers twined with each other at Doyoung’s back, arms wrapped around him in an embrace that wouldn’t break. Doyoung, feeling giddy with the  _ promise _ of it, did the same; locked his fingers, squeezed tight, and made a vow to himself that he wouldn’t let go either.


End file.
